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Copyright N° 


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FOUR BOYS IN THE LAND OF COTTON 


BOOKS BY EVERETT T. TOMLINSON. 

St. Lawrence Series. 

Three Volumes. Cloth. Illustrated. Price $1.50 each. 
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THE SEARCH FOR ANDREW FIELD. 

THE BOY SOLDIERS OF 1812. 

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TECUMSEH’S YOUNG BRAVES. 

GUARDING THE BORDER. 

THE BOYS WITH OLD HICKORY. 

Our Own Land Series 

Cloth. Illustrated. Price per volume, $1.50. 

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First and Second Series. Cloth. Illustrated. $1.00 each. 

*** For sale by all booksellers , or sent postpaid on receipt of price 
by the Publishers , 

Lothrop, Lee & Shepard Co*, Boston. 













It was tiie appearance of the feopee to be seen on the 

STREETS THAT MOST INTERESTED THE FOUR BOYS. — Page 390. 



FOUR BOYS IN THE LAND 
OF COTTON 

WHERE THEY WENT, WHAT THEY SAW, 
AND WHAT THEY DID 

BY * 

.A 

EVERETT T. TOMLINSON 

it 

AUTHOR OF “FOUR BOYS IN THE YELLOWSTONE,” “THE 
HOUSEBOAT ON THE ST. LAWRENCE,” “ THE BOY 
SOLDIERS OF 1812,” “THE RIDER OF THE 
BLACK HORSE,” “WARD HILL AT 
WESTON,” ETC., ETC. 


ILLUSTRATED BY H. C. EDWARDS 




BOSTON 

LOTHROP, LEE & SHEPARD CO. 


Published, August, 1907. 


VuBRAKY of CONGRESS] 
Two Copies Received * 

AUG 16 190^ 


Cmnetit Entry 




Copyright, 1907, 

By LOTIIROP, LEE & SHEPARD CO. 
All Rights Reserved. 


Four Boys in the Land of Cotton. 


Nortooob ^rrss 

J. S. Cushing & Co. — Berwick & Smith Co. 
Norwood, Mass., U.S.A. 




PREFACE 


The exceedingly kind reception which was 
given “Four Boys in the Yellowstone ” has led 
the writer to believe that, after all has been 
said, there is no subject of greater interest to 
young Americans than is America itself. 

In the present volume the writer has taken 
the “ Four Boys ” through a part of the mar- 
vellous region of the Southwest. The book is 
in no sense designed to be technical or even 
historical. The author’s purpose has merely 
been to describe such scenes and experiences as 
might come to any wide-awake, thoroughgoing 
boys who were making their first journey into 
this fascinating region. It is hoped, too, that 
it may not only provide interest for its young 
readers, but also may inspire them with the 
desire to see for themselves; for seeing is 
believing. 


5 


6 PREFACE 

The education which conies through travel 
is not the least valuable part of an equipment 
for living. If the journey made is into a new 
region, or at least into one somewhat unfamiliar, 
the interest aroused does not cease when travel 
ends. History and geography, men and deeds 
that primarily belong to one locality, become the 
possessions of all. 

To make better Americans we must make 
our boys and girls more appreciative of the land 
in which they live as well as of the locality in 
which their homes are found. JE pluribus unum 
is more than a mere motto. One does not cease 
to be less of a Jersey man, or a New Yorker, or 
a Virginian because he has become more of an 
American. And the writer has prepared this 
book with that very thought in mind. 

EVERETT T. TOMLINSON. 


Elizabeth, New Jersey. 


CONTENTS 


CHAPTER 

I. 

The Welcome for the Guest 


• 

PAGE 

. 11 

H. 

Local Rivalry 



. 23 

III. 

Showing the Man from Boston 



. 3o 

IV. 

A Spin in the Automobile . 



. 48 

V. 

An Unexpected Arrival 



. 60 

VI. 

The Ocean Blue 



. 72 

VII. 

Doing Good .... 



. 85 

VIII. 

The Monitor and the Merrimac 


. 98 

IX. 

Some Startling Discoveries 



. Ill 

X. 

A Perplexing Delay 



. 123 

XI. 

Another Failure . 



. 135 

XII. 

Tramps 



. 147 

XIII. 

First Families .... 



. 159 

XIV. 

Where History was Made . 



. 172 

XV. 

In Williamsburg 



. 185 

XVI. 

The Missing Trunk 



. 198 

XVII. 

Loss and Gain .... 



. 211 

XVIII. 

The Horseman .... 



. 224 

XIX. 

The Capital of the Confederacy 


. 237 

XX. 

Telegrams .... 

. 


. 250 

XXI. 

Lookout Mountain . 

# 


. 263 


7 


8 


CONTENTS 


CHAPTER PAGE 

XXII. A Famous Tennesseean . . . .275 

XXIII. Old Hickory 288 

XXIV. A Predicament 301 

XXV. A Private Automobile 314 

XXVI. A Theatrical Troupe .... 326 

XXVII. Superstitions 339 

XXVIII. On the Banks of the Mississippi . . 352 

XXIX. A Slow Train through Arkansas . . 365 

XXX. In the Land of the Indians . . . 378 

XXXI. Creeks and Cherokees .... 390 

XXXII. Conclusion 402 


ILLUSTRATIONS 


It was the appearance of the people to be seen 

ON THE STREETS THAT MOST INTERESTED THE FOUR 

boys (Page 390) ...... Frontispiece 

FACING PAGE 

“ I CAN’T MAKE ANYTHING OF IT,” REPLIED LARCUM, 

DISCONSOLATELY 124 

“If you are going tn my direction, a lift may 

NOT BE AMISS” 156 

John could be seen near the end of the street, 

HIS HORSE STILL RACING MADLY FORWARD . . 230 

“ That was about the closest call I’ve ever had 

IN ALL MY BUSINESS CAREER ” 276 

The speed had become so great that conversa- 
tion WAS IMPOSSIBLE ...... 322 


9 


















-*£ 






t 







































































































FOUB BOYS IN THE LAND OF COTTON 


CHAPTER I 

THE WELCOME FOR THE GUEST 

The afternoon was waning, and among the 
crowd that had assembled at the Grand Central 
Station in New York, to await the arrival of the 
incoming trains, there was no one whose impa- 
tience was more manifest than was Scott Gor- 
don’s. His sturdy, well-knit frame, his quick, 
impulsive movements, and the frequency with 
which he approached one of the waiting guards 
and repeated the question which he had already 
asked a score of times, — all alike indicated his 
restlessness and eagerness. 

“Here,” he said at last, as he thrust his hand 
into his pocket and drew forth a coin which he 
handed the guard, “just find out for me when that 
train from Boston is due ! I don’t want to wait 
here all day.” 


11 


12 FOUR BOYS IN LAND OF COTTON 


The guard quietly took the coin and departed. 
In a brief time he returned and said, “The train 
is in the tunnel now. It will be here in a very few 
minutes.” 

Scott turned away, and taking his stand near 
the gate with more patience than he had hitherto 
displayed, though not with less interest, watched 
the place where the light of the approaching train 
would first be seen. He was awaiting the arrival 
of his friend and college chum, “Jack” Field, — 
“John Adams Field, Jr.” the catalogue, more 
accurately and more elaborately, recorded it, — 
with whom the Freshman year had been passed; 
and the warm friendship between the two, which 
had been begun in the preparatory school, had 
been strengthened by the intimate associations 
of the months now gone. The summer vacation 
had lost only a few weeks, but in Scott’s heart there 
was a feeling that it had been so long since he had 
seen his friend that his eager desire to be with him 
once more had almost the force which a long sepa- 
ration might have produced. But John Adams 
Field, Jr., was now in the tunnel, and within a brief, 
time Scott would once more be with him. The 
very prospect intensified the feeling in his heart, 
and he did not once turn away his eyes from the 


THE WELCOME FOR THE GUEST 13 


bend where the approaching cars would first be 
discerned. 

There was more, however, in Scott's thoughts 
than the mere coming of his room-mate, longed-for 
as that was. A year before this time, Scott and 
John, together with two other classmates in their 
preparatory school, had made a never-to-be-for- 
gotten trip to the Yellowstone Park. After they 
had made the tour of the Great Lakes from Buffalo 
to Duluth, they had been met at the latter city 
by the private car which Larcum Brown's father 
had placed at their disposal, and had then made 
the long journey across the northern tier of States 
to the marvellous government reservation, and then 
by coach had gone through the Park, impressed 
by its wonderful sights, and all alike enthusiastic 
over their experiences. 1 

The disappointment of Scott and John when 
their friend Larcum had failed in his college 
entrance examinations, and had thereby cut him- 
self off from the intimate associations which the 
preceding three years had provided, was scarcely 
less keen than their sorrow when they were in- 
formed by Lee Harris — the Southern member 
of the quartette which in school had been famil- 
x See “ Four Boys in the Yellowstone .' 7 


14 FOUR BOYS IN LAND OF COTTON 


iarly known as the “ Cardinals, ” because every 
one of the little band respectively represented a 
different part of the United States — that, owing 
to family reasons, he would be unable to come 
North for his college course, but would be com- 
pelled to attend one of the colleges nearer his 
Southern home. 

The condition on which Lee had accepted the 
invitation of the preceding summer had been that 
in the following year his friends must visit him 
in his Southern home, and make a trip together in 
the land where the cinnamon seed and the cotton 
were not only found in song and story, but were 
also to be visibly in evidence. The promise had the 
more readily been given by Lee’s friends because 
not one of them had ever visited the Southland, 
and though this time there was no private car, such 
as Larcum’s “ railroad magnate” father had pro- 
vided, there was still no less enthusiasm over the 
promise of a reunion of the four friends and of a 
journey in a land of which they had heard so 
much and seen so little. 

In the arrangements it had been agreed that 
John should come to New York, and from that 
city he and his friend would sail for Old Point 
Comfort, make a few trips in the vicinity, and then 


THE WELCOME FOR THE GUEST 15 


push forward to Richmond, where Lee was to be 
met. At Memphis, Larcum was to join them, 
coming southward from his home in the West, and 
then the four boys were planning to go together 
at least as far as Indian Territory, and return by 
the way of Texas, visiting some of the most inter- 
esting places in the Southern States. 

Despite the fact that the trip was to be made 
in the summer, when the heat was likely to be 
excessive, there was no loss of enthusiasm on 
the part of the boys due to that fact. They were 
to be together once more, and friendship and the 
experiences they were confident they would have 
more than counterbalanced any prospect of dis- 
comfort or peril that the heat of the summer might 
threaten. 

And now, as the beginning of it all, Scott Gordon 
was waiting for the coming of his room-mate from 
Boston, and as the moment arrived, his manner 
changed somewhat, and the air of impatience dis- 
appeared. He became the “New Yorker” in his 
air of apparent indifference, when he at last saw 
the train approaching. Not that his feelings had 
changed, but the manifestation of his excitement 
was subdued. It was not “good form” to act like 
an excited schoolgirl. 


16 FOUR BOYS IN LAND OF COTTON 


All thoughts of the proprieties, however, van- 
ished into thin air when, with a shout that was 
heard above the turmoil of the station, he beheld 
his friend approaching up the long platform. In 
a moment he had rushed forward, thrown his arm 
about the neck of his friend, and then seized his 
bag and brusquely handed it to a porter, with the 
word that he was to follow. 

“ Why, Jack, old man, I don’t see that you have 
changed much,” Scott exclaimed, as the two friends 
together made their way toward the exit. 

“ Considering the fact that you haven’t seen 
me for almost three weeks, Scott, I can’t say that 
your remarkable statement surprises me,” laughed 
John. “I think you, too, are about like the old 
fellow I knew in the far-away past. By the way, 
Scott, can you tell me why it is, that when old 
men get together, they always hail one another as 
‘ boys’ and when two young fellows meet, they 
always call each other ‘old man’? Why is that, 
Scott?” 

“I don’t know. You’ve begun your questions 
before we’ve started. You are a regular Yankee, 
aren’t you?” 

“I am that. Say, Scott, do you think I’ll 
be mobbed, or lynched, or something or other, 


THE WELCOME FOR THE GUEST 17 


while we’re South ? I don’t intend to give up my 
Yankee propensities even there; but I’m told 
they don’t like the New Englanders very much 
down there.” 

“ They’ll like you all right, Jack. They won’t 
be able to help themselves. Only you don’t want 
to use very much of your Boston language, or wear 
your shell on the outside — like a lobster.” 

The boys laughed heartily, and, unaware of the 
glances of sympathy or interest which even the 
hurrying throng cast upon them, hastened forward 
to the side street, where Scott had left his 
automobile. 

“I’m going to run this car myself,” said Scott, 
glibly, as he tossed his friend’s belongings on 
board. “No chauffeur to-day! When John 
Adams Field, Jr., arrives from Boston, the best is 
none too good for him.” 

“That’s all right. I agree with you,” responded 
John, demurely, “but I didn’t take out any ac- 
cident policy when I left home. I’m not at all 
sure you can drive.” 

“I’ll show you!” interrupted Scott, and in a 
moment they had started toward his home. 

“You can ‘ drive ’all right, I see,” remarked John, 
when they had turned into Madison Avenue and 


18 FOUR BOYS IN LAND OF COTTON 


were speeding up the street at a pace that caused 
the people to stop and gaze in anger or surprise. 
“ I say, Scott, you needn’t do this on my account,” 
he added, as the speed of the car increased. “I 
want to go to your house — not to jail.” 

“You’ll get there. Hi! Hi-i-i!” Scott sud- 
denly shouted, as an unfortunate pedestrian was 
nearly run down. The man stopped, and angrily 
shook his fist at the disappearing automobile. 

“Know what that man was saying, Jack?” 
demanded Scott. 

“No.” 

“Well, I fancy his language is not fit to print, 
or at least is not used in polite society. It isn’t 
the Boston kind, anyway. Here we go,” he added, 
as the speed again increased. 

“Scott, you’ll be arrested !” 

“Not before they catch me.” 

“You’ll hit somebody.” 

“Not if he gets out of the way.” 

“But it really is dangerous. Besides — ” John 
stopped abruptly and held his breath as a man 
darted across the street in front of them, and again 
an accident was barely averted. 

“Why didn’t you warn him ?” demanded John, 
as Scott sped forward once more with increasing 
speed. 


THE WELCOME FOR THE GUEST 19 


“My horn doesn’t work.” 

“But you might slacken your speed.” 

“I never thought of that/’ said Scott, slowly. 
“That’s a good suggestion, Jack. I believe I’ll 
try it some day.” 

The speed of the car was less now, and John 
laughed. 

“Hello. There’s father!” Scott suddenly ex- 
claimed, indicating a man on the street before 
him. “I think I’ll stop and take him in.” 

“I’m afraid it won’t be the first time.” 

“You’re mistaken. You don’t know him, that’s 
all. The man doesn’t live that can do that. He’s 
the keenest man on the street.” There was pride 
and affection in Scott’s voice, and John, who was 
aware of the intense devotion of his room-mate 
to his father, smiled at his friend’s words. In his 
own home, John’s father was never demonstrative, 
and somehow the. boy, though he had no question 
as to the deep and true affection in which he was 
held in his father’s heart, somehow felt a longing 
for some such relation as that which existed be- 
tween Mr. Gordon and his son. They were like 
brothers, “chums,” in their intercourse, and 
though there was never a lack of respect, there 
was, nevertheless, a freedom and cordiality that 


20 FOUR BOYS IN LAND OF COTTON 


were exceedingly impressive to John. Perhaps he 
had never stopped to consider that a part of the 
cause might be due to himself. 

In response to Scott’s hail Mr. Gordon entered 
the car, greeted John cordially, and then took his 
seat behind the boys. 

“What have you been doing to-day, father?” 
inquired Scott, as the automobile started forward, 
though now its speed was less than it had been a 
few minutes before. 

“Trying to get some money for you, Scott, so 
that you can take this trip with your friends,” 
laughed Mr. Gordon. “Strange what a lot of 
money you boys need,” he added quizzically. 

“Oh, we don’t need the money,” retorted Scott. 
“It’s the other people that need it. Somehow, 
they’re always after me for it. I don’t care a snap 
of my finger about money myself. But the college 
seems to want it, the woman with whom I board 
seems almost crazy about it, and then every shop- 
keeper in town is after me for it. No, you can’t 
blame me for that, father. It’s the other fellow 
you want to get after.” 

Mr. Gordon laughed as he said, “Scott, some- 
times I’ve a notion that I would be doing you a 
kindness to take you into my office for a time and 


THE WELCOME FOR THE GUEST 21 


put you to work. You’d appreciate then what 
money costs, and find out what it is worth.” 

“I don’t have to learn that,” retorted Scott, 
“I’ve inherited all that. Why, don’t you remem- 
ber how, when I was a little chap, we used to 
go up to our farm in the country? The ‘ hired 
men, ’as they called the workers up there, said I 
was a chip of the old block, even then. They said 
I’d spend my time gambolling in the wheat or corn, 
or else I’d be out in the barnyard watering the 
stock. You remember that, don’t you, father?” 

“I can’t say that I do,” laughed Mr. Gordon. 
“I had a man in my office to-day, though, who beats 
even you, Scott. He wanted a position, and said 
he was now getting two hundred and fifty a month. 
He certainly did not look it, and at last I found out 
how he figured it up. He said he had a regular 
salary of one hundred dollars a month. Then he 
didn’t pay his rent — that was forty a month. 
He owed the milkman thirty and his butcher forty 
dollars, and then every month he managed to 
borrow forty dollars more from his friends. So, 
altogether, he claimed he had two hundred and 
fifty dollars every month.” 

“Did you give him a position?” inquired John. 

“Hardly.” 


22 FOUR BOYS IN LAND OF COTTON 


“No, but you’ll find that he lent him that forty,” 
declared Scott to his friend. “Here we are,” he 
added, as the automobile stopped. “This is our 
humble home, Mr. John Adams Field, Jr., and I 
bid you enter.” 


CHAPTER II 


LOCAL RIVALRY 

“What shall we do to-morrow, Jack?” in- 
quired Scott, when, later in the evening, the two 
friends were seated in the library. 

“That's for you to say.” 

“We have a good full day and a half. You 
know we don't sail till day after to-morrow, at 
three in the afternoon. We can go for a spin in 
the automobile, or we can run down to Coney, 
or—” 

“It will all be interesting to me,” broke in John. 
“You know I have never seen very much of New 
York, anyway. When I have been here it has 
usually been when I was going to take a train 
for some other place.” 

There was something in the manner of his friend 
that caused Scott to smile. Not that the “some- 
thing” was new, for in the years of their ac- 
quaintance he had learned somewhat of the calm 
confidence that John felt in the superiority of 


23 


24 FOUR BOYS IN LAND OF COTTON 


all that belonged to his own home in Boston. 
In their arguments, which sometimes became 
quite heated, the laugh of John, when Scott quoted 
any other authority than that which was accepted 
in the circles of the city which was the home of 
John Adams Field, Jr., had been strangely irri- 
tating to Scott. John had never declared that 
Scott’s sources of authority were not to be trusted, 
but his manner had implied what he had left 
unsaid. And the young New Yorker had rebelled, 
although he had not often been able to refute 
the implied slight; for John was keen and clear, 
and his knowledge and scholarship had been 
too pronounced to be easily overthrown. 

Nevertheless, Scott had been eager to have his 
room-mate visit him and be permitted to show 
him some of the sights of the city which he firmly 
believed to be the most wonderful in all the world. 
Indeed, the local pride of each of the Cardinals 
in the superiority of his own home over the rest 
of creation had been a frequent source of argu- 
ment. Larcum’s calm assurance that “the West” 
was the only region where a young man could find 
a proper field for his enterprise was only excelled 
by the firm belief of Lee that the South con- 
tained all that was choicest in American life. 


LOCAL RIVALRY 


25 


And now, when John displayed unconsciously 
his attitude toward the city in which Scott dwelt, 
the latter smiled slightly, and a new light appeared 
in his eyes. 

“Oh, I don’t know that we have very much that 
could interest a man from Boston,” he said good- 
naturedly. “We haven’t so many old grave- 
yards perhaps, — though I never could quite see, 
Jack, why you Boston people were so proud of 
your graves. The men are all dead, aren’t they? 
What I like, is to see men that are alive and doing 
things. I can show you some of — ” 

“Never you mind that !” broke in Jack, quickly. 
“If you had the graves of men like Samuel Adams 
and General Warren and Longfellow — ” 

“And John Adams,” interrupted Scott, with a 
laugh. 

“Yes, and John Adams,” acknowledged John, 
joining in the laugh of his friend. 

“There’s one thing that has always puzzled me, 
though, Jack,” began Scott, soberly. 

“What’s that?” 

“Why you people down East should be so 
unduly modest. You’re the regular shrinking, 
timid violet kind. Now, if you’d only stand up 
and put in a claim now and then for your just 


26 FOUR BOYS IN LAND OF COTTON 


deserts, the rest of us would bow down then and 
do you homage. But you see you don’t do any- 
thing of the kind. You are always so humble. 
You never have made very much of the Pilgrims 
or the Puritans; you haven’t claimed that you 
did anything to help in the independence of the 
colonies; you don’t seem to think your schools 
and colleges are any better than others ; you don’t 
seem to have any very great pride in your 
poets — ” 

“It’s all very well for you to talk, Scott,” broke 
in John, laughing as he spoke; “but you’ll have 
to acknowledge that we have the history and the 
men.” 

“I’ll tell you what it is, Jack,” responded Scott, 
eagerly, “if you New Englanders ever did any- 
thing that the rest of the world hasn’t heard about, 
the fault can’t be laid at your feet, anyway.” 

“But we did the things — that’s the beauty of 
it,” said John, calmly. 

“What things?” 

“Why — in history and everything else. The 
colonies, for example, never could have won their 
independence if we hadn’t provided the men.” 

“Jack, did you ever hear that the little colony 
of New Jersey lost more men in the Revolution 


LOCAL RIVALRY 27 

than all the New England colonies put to- 
gether?” 

“No, I never did; and what’s more, I don’t 
believe it, either.” 

“Oh, I don’t ask you to take just my word for 
it ; you can look up the records for yourself.” 

“I never read any such thing in the histories 
I’ve studied.” 

“Very likely,” remarked Scott, dryly. “Let 
me see — the most of these histories have been 
written by men that belonged to New England, 
haven’t they?” 

“Yes, sir. We’ve had to furnish the his- 
torians. No other part of the country had any.” 

“That’s all right — only your men have not 
only written the history, but you have manufac- 
tured it, too. Now just take the case of Paul 
Revere. I’m not saying anything against him, 
mark you — ” 

“That’s kind of you.” 

“But look at it, Jack. Honestly, don’t you 
think there were at least a dozen men around here 
who could have leaped on the back of a horse and 
grabbed and swung a lantern and yelled as lustily 
as he did that the Regulars were coming, and 
made just as good time as he did, too, over the 


28 FOUR BOYS IN LAND OF COTTON 


country roads ? Honestly, Jack, don’t you think 
a few of these men around here could have done 
that if they had tried real hard?” 

“Why didn’t they do it, then?” 

“They did; but they never thought such little 
things were worth writing up. You see Paul 
Revere, good man though he was, was a fortunate 
chap to get Longfellow to give him a ‘ write up.’ 
See what I mean?” 

“You didn’t have any Longfellow to do it.” 

“Well, there you’ve got us, Jack. I’ll have to 
own up to that. When it comes to using words — 
why, there isn’t any part of the country that can 
touch you. You have had so many words and 
have had to use them so that you have written 
up or backed up everything that any New Eng- 
lander ever did or ever thought of doing or ever 
wanted to do. And as I said, New Jersey had 
more men who died for their country than all of 
you did, put together. But New Jersey has been 
modest — too modest for her own good. She 
not only hasn’t blown her own horn, but she didn’t 
even have the nerve to hang any witches, or whip 
any Quakers, or banish any Baptists. You people 
write up such things as if you were proud of them. 
For, my part, I think you ought to be ashamed of 


LOCAL RIVALRY 


29 


yourselves. I wouldn’t have you deny what you 
did, of course ; but for myself I never could under- 
stand why you wanted to get up on the house- 
tops and crow about these things, like a barn-yard 
rooster after a rain. Probably he thinks that he 
made the storms go by. Then there is South 
Carolina. Why, Jack, when it comes to personal 
suffering and heroism, there isn’t one of the thirteen 
colonies that belongs in the same class with her. 
What her patriotic men and women went through 
in that struggle — ” 

“ Never mind, Scott; I’m not saying you don’t 
think it’s all so.” 

“But you don’t believe it?” 

“I should want your authority before I did.” 

“I can give it to you.” 

“Sometime I’ll look it up.” 

“You are so fond of graves and what you call 
historic spots, Jack, perhaps you’d like to see 
some of New York’s to-morrow.” 

“Has New York any?” 

“You just wait. I never knew anything about 
it myself till last year, and then I began to look 
up what my own town could give me in that line. 
We’ll take the automobile to-morrow, and maybe, 
when we’ve got through the day, you won’t 


30 FOUR BOYS IN LAND OF COTTON 


think your town, with its little crooked, narrow 
streets — ” 

“ We’re proud of them,” interrupted John. 

“That’s it! That’s just what makes it all so 
hopeless!” exclaimed Scott, in mock despair. 
“You brag about hanging witches. You call it 
history when you tell your stories of whipping 
Quakers, and you’re proud of your little alleyways, 
where two people can’t walk side by side, and one 
man, if he’s all alone there, finds himself so crowded, 
he tries to get out of his own way and can’t do it. 
You ought to put on sackcloth and ashes instead 
of standing up to yell out your thanks that you 
are not like other cities and men.” 

On the following morning, when the two boys 
set forth on their tour in Scott’s automobile, there 
were no evidences to be seen in their manner, at 
least, that the rivalry for their respective homes 
had left any traces of bitterness. The day was 
warm, but the swift flight of the car made 
them both unmindful of the heat, and John’s 
interest, despite his attempt to appear indiffer- 
ent, was so manifest that Scott’s eagerness 
increased. 

“Some of these houses are regular castles,” 
remarked John, as they sped down Fifth Avenue. 


LOCAL RIVALRY 31 

“ Some of them, I fancy, would do very well for 
the Russian nobility.” 

“As far as castles are concerned, the peasants in 
Russia, to my mind, seem to be better off than the 
nobility,” remarked Scott, demurely. 

“The peasants? What do you mean? If 
what I have been reading is to be believed, they 
are about as badly off as they well can be. They 
can’t get any land, to say nothing of castles.” 

“Ah, yes they can. They have castles to burn.” 

There was a brief silence, in which John’s face 
took on an expression of sorrow, as if he were griev- 
ing for the folly of his friend. As Scott did not 
glance at him, however, the effect was lost, and in 
a brief time John said, as he pointed to a group of 
laborers in the street beside them: “This is a 
great country, isn’t it, Scott ? Just look at these 
men. They come over here, and every one of them 
has his chance in life, labor, and in the pursuit of 
happiness.” 

“It isn’t the ‘ pursuit’ of happiness he’s after. 
What every man wants, as I understand it, isn’t 
the pursuit of happiness. What he wants, is to 
catch up with it.” 

“Scott, what’s the matter with you this morn- 
ing?” 


32 FOUR BOYS IN LAND OF COTTON 


“Nothing.” 

“You don’t look the part. I say,” John added, 
as he obtained a momentary glimpse of the blue 
waters of the Hudson as the automobile darted 
past a street that was open clear to the river be- 
yond, “what a wonderful morning this is! You 
can see clear over into Jersey.” 

“Farther than that.” 

“Farther?” 

“Yes; from New York, on a clear night, one can 
see the moon.” 

“You must have been struck by it last night.” 

“I wasn’t.” 

“But no joking, Scott,” persisted John. “It 
isn’t often the air is like this. The horizon is as 
clear as I ever saw it.” 

“Yes, it is clear. I just swept it with my eye. 
There, Jack, don’t be frightened. I’ll give you my 
word I’ll not do that again.” 

“You’d better not. I’m desperate.” 

The car by this time was in lower Broadway, 
and Scott called to his chauffeur to halt before 
Trinity churchyard. ‘ ‘ Jack, you’re fond of graves, 
so I’m going to give you a look at some of those 
in there. Off there is where Alexander Hamilton 
is buried. Ever hear of him?” 


LOCAL RIVALRY 


33 


“Yes” 

“Fm glad of it; though, poor fellow, he didn’t 
know any more than to live and then be buried in 
New York. There are some people, I understand, 
who think he had about the brightest mind this 
country has ever seen. I’m going to send word 
some day to some of your Boston historians. 
Then there are the graves,” he added, pointing 
in various directions in the churchyard as he 
spoke, “of William Bradford and Captain 
Lawrence — let me tell you about him, Jack. 
When he had been wounded, and he knew he was 
going to die, he was the man who said, ‘ Don’t give 
up the ship ’ — ever hear of that ? ” 

John smiled, but did not reply. 

“Over there is where Robert Fulton is buried, 
and there is where old Marinus Willett’s body rests. 
There, too, is the grave of Charlotte Temple — 
want to see some more graves, Jack?” Scott in- 
quired demurely. 

“Not now.” 

“This is Trinity Church,” explained Scott again, 
as the car moved forward. “Right down there 
is Wall Street and the Stock Exchange. Maybe 
you’ve heard of them in Boston. But they are 
very much alive, so I won’t take you to them. 


34 FOUR BOYS IN LAND OF COTTON 


What you want is the old and the dead. This old 
church was dedicated in 1697.” 

“This building?” 

“No. This is the third. The first was burned 
in the great fire of 1776. Washington attended 
the dedication of the second, and this is the third, 
as I said. Wait, though, till I show you something 
worth seeing,” and at Scott's word the automobile 
sped down the street. 


CHAPTER III 


SHOWING THE MAN FROM BOSTON 

“ There !” exclaimed Scott, as at a word from 
him they halted before an old cannon which was 
used as a post. “ There you behold one of the 
guns that spoke its piece in the Revolution. It 
is — ” 

“Pooh! New England is full of them; we 
have one at every cross-roads — ” 

Scott made no response, and the automobile 
moved forward a little farther, and then halted 
again as the “guide” said, “Here we are at 41 
Broadway. This is the very spot where the first 
habitation by white men was erected on Man- 
hattan Island.” 

“Nothing very remarkable about that. There 
had to be a ‘ first ’ somewhere, didn’t there?” 

“Well, my impulsive friend, just hang on to 
your enthusiasm a bit, for here is 1 Broadway, 
and right on this spot the old Kennedy house 


36 FOUR BOYS IN LAND OF COTTON 

used to stand. Here ‘Old Put’ had his head- 
quarters — ” 

“Let me see,” interrupted John, demurely, 
“where was it General Putnam came from?” 

“He came from New England,” said Scott, 
shortly. “He had to ‘come ’ from there if he was 
to do any fighting, didn’t he ? You struck twelve 
when you put up your monument on Bunker Hill, 
and you didn’t even get the right spot for that.” 

“We didn’t? We didn’t?” demanded John, 
warmly. “Let me tell you — ” 

“No, I’ll not let you ‘tell me.’ This is my day, 
and I’m going to do the talking. I haven’t 
worked all this up just to hear you tell your old, 
old story to me; I want you to get a new idea 
or two. Now here is old Fort Amsterdam, or 
rather where it stood. It was one of the first 
buildings the Dutchmen put up.” 

“Of course they had to put up a fort. Every- 
body knows that. Up in New England they 
didn’t begin by fighting the poor Indians.” 

“No — they drove sharp bargains with them,” 
retorted Scott. “ What was it they paid — or 
agreed to pay for all the land? I’ve often 
wondered if they did really pay.” 

“What about your old fort?” 


SHOWING THE MAN FROM BOSTON 37 


“ Nothing much, only that it was built in 1626, 
and contained the governor’s mansion, a church, 
a jail, and a windmill.” 

“And the windmill is still going?” 

“Here’s Bowling Green; of course you know 
why that name was given?” 

“Can’t say that I do; never read anything 
about it in any of my histories.” 

“Some day you’ll read a history that takes 
in more than Faneuil Hall, Bunker Hill, and the 
Old South Church. Some of the young men 
away back in 1732, hired the green here for a 
bowling place.” 

“How much rent did they pay?” 

“A pepper-corn a year.” 

“Talk about New England thrift! I think 
that was an outrage ! Why, now this place would 
rent for five thousand a year.” 

“I think it would,” laughed Scott, as he glanced 
at the huge office buildings. “There’s a statue of 
Abraham de Peyster, mayor in 1691.” 

“Probably, if he could come to-day to some of 
the homes here in New York, they’d tell him to go 
around to the kitchen door; that was the place 
where they fed gentlemen of his trade.” 

“Did you ever hear of Battery Park ? ” 


38 FOUR BOYS IN LAND OF COTTON 


“It seems to me I have,” responded John, 
slowly, his eyes twinkling as he spoke. 

“Here it is, anyway. This is almost all ‘made* 
ground.” 

“Wasn’t all the ground 'made’?” 

“Not filled in as this was. At first it was 
almost all under water, and there were some great 
rocks that were here. Back in 1693, when the 
war was on between England and France, a plat- 
form was built away out on the rocks to hold a 
battery that was put there to guard both rivers, 
you see. After the Revolution, the point was 
filled in, and they made a park of it. Why, 
man, it was the very centre of the fashionable 
life in New York at that time.” 

“New York has always been great on fashion, 
hasn’t it?” 

“There’s the Aquarium,” continued Scott, 
ignoring the bantering of his friend. “In 1812 
Fort Clinton stood there, and some of the old 
port-holes are left.” 

' ‘ How did they preserve a ' hole,’ Scott ? When 
I was a small boy, and used to go up to my grand- 
mother’s in the country, for the summer, my 
grandfather never tired of asking me, when I was 
eating a fried cake, what became of the hole. He 


SHOWING THE MAN FROM BOSTON 39 


declared I’d eaten it, for he couldn’t find it any- 
where. ” 

“‘Fried cakes’? You mean crullers, perhaps.” 

“I mean what I say; I speak the English 
language.” 

“You do the best you know how, I’ll give you 
credit for that. The name of Fort Clinton was 
changed afterwards to Castle Garden, and was a 
place of amusement. Some great men were 
welcomed to New York here. Lafayette in 1824, 
Andrew Jackson in 1832, President Tyler in 1845. 
Louis Kossuth and Jenny Lind came here, too.” 

“When was John Adams here?” 

“John Adams? John Adams? Who was he? 
I’m sure I’ve heard the name somewhere. Oh, he 
was the chap that furnished most of the wind, 
wasn’t he, to turn the mill, when other men were 
doing something?” 

John laughingly turned upon his friend, and for 
a moment it seemed as if a contest would occur, 
but Scott quickly drew back, and the automobile 
turned into Whitehall Street. “Here’s a tablet 
that ought to interest you, for it tells of something 
old enough and dead enough to suit you, I’m 
sure. This is a tablet which the Daughters of the 
American Revolution put up in memory of 


40 FOUR BOYS IN LAND OF COTTON 


Anneka Jans. She was a charming widow, who 
owned some land that extended from Warren to 
Canal Street, west of Broadway. In 1607, this 
was transferred to the second English governor, 
Colonel Lovelace, and became a part of the 
Queen’s farm, which was granted by Queen Anne, 
in 1705, to Trinity Church. Some of Anneka ’s 
descendants have been trying ever since to get it 
back again.” 

“What does Anneka say about it?” 

“She hasn’t made a protest for a long time.” 

“Is she still living?” 

“She isn’t talking very much, anyway.” 

“Ah ! What does her husband say about it?” 

“She was a widow, I tell you.” 

“Yes; but she must have had a husband — 
sometime. Was he a silent man ? ” 

“I Tawncy’ he must have been.” 

“And you say she was the silent Mrs. Jans?” 

“No, I didn’t say anything of the kind. I 
said Mrs. Jans was silent.” 

“You’re improving, Scott.” 

“Turn back a minute,” said Scott, quickly, to 
his chauffeur. “I want my friend from Boston to 
see the old flagstaff.” 

“Don’t bother on my account, Scott; I’ve seen 
several. They’re no novelty in Boston.” 


SHOWING THE MAN FROM BOSTON 41 


“You haven’t one like this in all New England. 
This is the one to which the British nailed the 
English flag when they evacuated the city on 
November 25, 1783; then they cut the halliards 
and greased the pole.” 

“Is the grease still on it?” 

“No, sir; the redcoats hadn’t fairly left before 
John Van Arsdale took a hammer and some 
cleats and made his way up the pole and put the 
stars and stripes where the British flag had been. 
And the British could see it all done, for they 
were right out there in the bay. After that, as 
long as Evacuation Day was celebrated, John 
Van Arsdale, or some of his descendants, were the 
ones that raised the flag on the old pole. There’s 
a statue of Ericsson, too, right over yonder. You 
know he invented the Monitor, got up the steam 
fire-engine, and he was the man, too, that first 
applied steam to the ocean-going ships. Now 
we’ll go to Wall Street, ” he added. 

Soon the party halted in front of the Sub- 
Treasury Building, and remained silent for a 
short time as they gazed up into the face of the 
beautiful statue of Washington, in front of the 
building that marked the spot where the Father of 
his Country stood and took his oath as president 


42 FOUR BOYS IN LAND OF COTTON 


of the newly formed nation on April 30, 1789. 
Crowds of busy men and running messenger boys 
were scurrying along the streets. From Broad 
Street came the hoarse, wild shouts of the brokers 
on the curb. The stately buildings rose on every 
side, impressive in their architecture, yet making 
more emphatic the narrowness of the streets. 
And out upon the rushing, frantic, noisy throng, 
the bronze face of Washington gazed almost as if 
he was wondering what the babel meant, and why 
it was that so many careworn, anxious, and even 
apparently suffering men had congregated in the 
place before him. 

“He was a wonderful man,” said John, in a 
low voice, and still gazing up into the majestic 
countenance. 

“He certainly was. The more I read about 
him the more wonderful he seems to me,” re- 
sponded Scott, sympathizing with the feelings of 
his friend. 

In a moment, however, John’s feelings changed ; 
and glancing at the mass of men — every one of 
whom was struggling for money with an intensity 
as great as that with which the great commander 
had contended for the liberties of the colonists — 
he said quizzically, “What do you suppose 


SHOWING THE MAN FROM BOSTON 43 


Washington would say to-day if he could see all 
this?” 

“I haven’t any idea,” replied the matter-of- 
fact Scott. 

“ Think there is anything suggestive in having 
this statue stand right in front of the Treasury 
Building, Scott? Is he on guard here, do you 
think?” 

“It’s appropriate, anyway,” admitted his 
friend, with a laugh. 

“I was terribly upset the other day when I 
went into my bank in Boston, ” said John, quietly. 

“How was that?” 

“Why, they told me I had lost my balance, — 
overdrawn, I think the word was.” 

“That’s nothing,” retorted Scott. “I had an 
experience worse than that only yesterday. I 
went into the bank where I — where my father 
places such frugal sums as he thinks are best 
fitted to my simple needs — and when I wanted 
to know how much I had to my credit, I got 
stung.” 

“'Stung’? What do you mean? That’s 
slang.” 

“That’s what I mean,” said Scott, soberly. 
“The man ran over my accounts and told me I 


44 FOUR BOYS IN LAND OF COTTON 


hadn’t much left. Yes, I was stung by an 
adder. ” 

“ Don’t you keep a balance, then, Scott?” 

“ That’s the same question my father is always 
asking me,” retorted Scott. “I can’t see, for 
my part, what it is that interests him so in a 
little matter like that. Still, he’s a good man, 
and I always try to please him. The other 
day I went to the bank, and the man told 
me I had twenty-nine dollars and thirty-three 
cents to my credit. So I made out a check for 
twenty-nine dollars and thirty-two cents. That 
left me a balance in the bank, don’t you see? 
That very night my father said to me, 1 Scott, how 
does your account stand in the bank ? ’ ' It is all 

right, father,’ I said. ‘They told me to-day that 
I had a balance in my favor.’ And do you know, 
he praised me ; but I cannot see why such a little 
thing as a balance of one cent in the bank should 
have added so much to his pleasure. Do you?” 

“It is strange,” laughed John. 

“He is such a good man, that any little thing I 
do for him always gives him pleasure,” said Scott, 
demurely. “But down there,” he added, as he 
pointed at the scurrying crowds — “that’s the 
place where they make and lose money. Copper 


SHOWING THE MAN FROM BOSTON 45 


stocks, gold-mines, bonds, railway shares — every- 
thing.” 

“Do they all ‘make’?” 

“No ; they say where one man makes there are 
ten that lose.” 

“That agrees with what I've always heard,” 
said John, demurely. “My father is always 
telling me that 'money can be lost in more 
ways than won.’ And now you say it's true.” 

“John Field, if you do that again, I’ll leave 
you!” said Scott. 

“Don't! please don't! I'll not say another 
word.” 

“Go on,” said Scott to the driver. 

John, true to his word, did not speak when Scott 
halted before Fraunces's Tavern at the corner of 
Broad and Pearl streets, and explained that in all 
probability it was the oldest landmark in New 
York City. Built in 1700 by Stephen De Lancey, 
it was bought by Samuel Fraunces in 1762, and 
made into a tavern. In this building, in the so- 
called “Long Room,” Washington made his 
tearful farewell to his officers in 1783. 

“Now stop a moment, and I'll show you where 
the first printing press was set up in New York, ” 
Scott said to his chauffeur, and the automobile 


46 FOUR BOYS IN LAND OF COTTON 


halted at 81 Pearl Street. “Away back in 1693, 
William Bradford established his press right 
here, ” he explained to his companion. 

“Could the people here actually read?” de- 
manded John, solemnly. 

“I knew you couldn’t keep still, ” laughed Scott. 
“Now I’m going to show you the site of the old 
Middle Dutch Church at Cedar and Nassau. It 
was turned into a prison during the Revolution. 
One of my ancestors died there.” 

“That’s where they usually died, wasn’t it, 
Scott?” 

“Now, then, my loquacious friend, I’m going to 
show you where the first real battle of the American 
Revolution took place. I — ” 

“What !” demanded John, sitting quickly erect 
and staring at his friend. 

“Yes, sir. The battle of Golden Hill, which was 
fought over here at the northwest corner of John 
and William streets.” 

“Why, the very babies in arms know Concord 
and Lexington — ” began John, excitedly. 

“Yes, that may be so; when they get old 
enough to have their eyes open, though, they 
find out that this battle of Golden Hill, on Janu- 
ary 18, 1770, was the first.” 


SHOWING THE MAN FROM BOSTON 47 


“I don’t doubt your belief that it is so, but we 
simply know better, that’s all.” 

“You are like all the rest,” retorted Scott, 
warmly. “I heard a man say only the other day 
that 'you could always tell a Boston man, but you 
couldn’t tell him much.’” 


CHAPTER IV 

A SPIN IN THE AUTOMOBILE 

“There’s a tablet over there in the post-office,” 
continued Scott, “which the Daughters of the 
American Revolution put up, that is supposed to 
mark the very spot where the liberty pole stood. 
You know the fight — the battle of Golden Hill — 
began over that liberty pole, or rather, over the 
flag that was on it — ” 

“No, I don’t know,” responded John, de- 
murely. “How should I? I take the word of 
historians that Concord and Lexington were the 
beginning of the struggle.” 

“Oh, yes, that’s what your Boston historians 
all say. They’re honest, I fancy ; but then, when 
a man tries to write history, he ought to be some- 
thing more than honest.” 

“What ought he to be?” 

“He ought to know things. If he doesn’t, his 
history may not be honest, though he himself may 
48 


A SPIN IN THE AUTOMOBILE 49 


be as honest as the little George with his hatchet.” 

“ What’s that old church?” inquired John, 
pointing, as he spoke, to an ancient building on a 
lot near by on Broadway. 

“That is old St. Paul’s. When that church was 
built, Broadway was just country, so the front of 
the building was put toward the river. Just 
think of that, Jack, ” laughed Scott. 

“Oh, I can’t think of it. I don’t dare to think 
of it.” 

“If we had time we’d go inside and see Wash- 
ington’s old pew, and the tablets commemorating 
centennials of his inauguration and his death. 
But I want you to see this statue of Nathan 
Hale here in the City Hall Park.” 

“That’s quite a fair piece of work,” said John, 
after he had inspected the statue. “Where was 
it that Nathan Hale was executed?” 

“Over on First Avenue, up about Forty-fifth 
Street.” 

“He was a brave fellow, and I never thought 
he ought to have been hanged as a spy. He was 
true blue. Let me see — he was from New 
England, I think.” 

“Yes; he was another one of those that got out 
as soon as he could. There are a good many other 


50 FOUR BOYS IN LAND OF COTTON 


places around here I'd like to show you, Jack. 
We don't think of them very often, we're so 
familiar with them. Over there, in the Hall of 
Records, there used to be some dungeons, and 
Ethan Allen was shut in there by the British, along 
with a good many others. Then there is Printing 
House Square and City Hall, — we’ll have to stop 
at 1 Cherry Street, — at least that’s what it used to 
be ; though now there's just a tablet on the pier 
of Brooklyn Bridge to mark the spot where 
Washington lived in 1789. That was the first 
presidential mansion." 

“ Washington must have spent a good deal of his 
time just in 1 living in' or ‘ sleeping in’ houses," 
suggested John. “I don't see how he could 
have done much else, there are so many of 
them." 

“Over on Duane Street there is one of the 
old sugar-house prisons. I am not sure that 
your historians have ever known that there were 
more men at one time from the Continental army 
prisoners here in New York than were left with 
Washington. The British had to use even the 
churches for jails, and these old sugar-houses, being 
such large buildings, were just turned into jails, too. 
Every morning men used to drive up in ox carts to 


A SPIN IN THE AUTOMOBILE 51 


carry away the bodies of the poor fellows who had 
died in the night — ” 

“How many, did you say, Scott, of your family 
had died in jail?” 

“No one died here. Now we’ll take a spin a 
little farther up-town.” 

“Yes, I think that would be a good plan. I’m 
afraid I’ve been more impressed by what I saw 
in Wall Street — By the way, Scott, is it true 
they have changed the old proverb, ‘Be sure 
you’re right, then go ahead’?” 

“I never heard that they had.” 

“I was told the other day that it was so.” 

“How did they change it?” 

“Go ahead — and — no, that isn’t it. What 
was it?” 

“I can’t tell you. You’re almost as bad as 
Larc. You know he can’t tell a story for the life 
of him. He usually tells the point first, and 
doesn’t get that right one time in ten.” 

“Well, I have it now, ” responded John, soberly. 
“Somebody told me the motto of the men down 
here is, ‘Just be sure you’re ahead, and then 
you’re all right.”’ 

Scott laughed, but the automobile was moving 
too swiftly to permit of conversation, and it did 


52 FOUR BOYS IN LAND OF COTTON 


not halt until the boys had arrived at Union 
Square. 

“When these streets were mapped out in 1807,” 
explained Scott, “there were so many roads that 
met and crossed here that there wasn’t much 
room left where houses could be built, so it was 
decided to form a square right here. That 
statue of Washington, over yonder, was unveiled 
in 1856. It is a copy of Houdon’s bust, and 
you know he made that from life and the uniform 
which the father of his country wore. That 
statue of Lincoln is supposed to be a very good 
one; and then I want you to notice this one of 
Lafayette. The French government made us a 
present of that in 1876. What did the French- 
men ever give you people in Boston, Scott?” 

“Not much but trouble.” 

“We’ll take a run now down to Washington 
Square. That will be good for a man from 
Boston to behold.” 

“What’s that arch?” inquired Scott, as the 
boys speedily drew near. 

“That is the Washington Arch. New York isn’t 
going to be left so far behind Rome, you see. 
We’re going to give our great men something 
besides a little cheap gravestone, the way some 


A SPIN IN THE AUTOMOBILE 53 


people I know do. This square was a potter's 
field once. Want to go down to Christopher 
Street ? ” 

“What for?" 

“I didn’t know but you might be interested in 
seeing the site, that’s all. There was an Indian 
village there in the early days, and there was a 
little brook there which they called Minetta 
Creek. Finest fishing in the world in that 
stream in the good old days.’’ 

“What’s become of it?’’ 

“Still there.’’ 

“What? You don’t mean that?’’ 

“I certainly do. Of course it’s hidden, and all 
covered over, but it’s there, just the same.’’ 

“Do you ever go fishing there, Scott?’’ 

“Can’t say I do. We’ve got to push on, for I’m 
half afraid it’s going to rain, and I do want you to 
see a little of old New York — you Boston people 
don’t seem to think there’s much worth seeing 
except graves and old places.’’ 

“Never you mind that,’’ retorted John, warmly. 
“It’s ideas we value.’’ 

“So? I never had suspected it. I thought 
you didn’t care for anything unless it was old or 
dead. Now John Adams was all right enough in 


54 FOUR BOYS IN LAND OF COTTON 


his way and day, and sometimes, as I’ve said to 
you, IVe thought he really was almost half as 
big a man as he thought he was, but when it comes 
to the new John Adamses — ” 

“Go on with your story, Scott,” interrupted 
John, giving his friend a push. “What do you 
call this park?” 

“This is Madison Square. Over on the corner 
there is the largest and the most beautiful 
office building in the world. It goes clear through 
from Madison Avenue to Fourth Avenue. But 
then, I almost forgot. That is new, and of course 
you don’t care anything ahout that. Years ago 
there used to be an old post road here that led to 
Boston — ” 

“All roads lead there — ” 

“So that a few may have a chance to get out. 
See those monuments of Sumner and Farragut 
and Arthur?” 

“They’re too modern.” 

“Well, then, I’ll show you Bryant Park, if you 
want something old. That’s up here at Forty- 
second Street. When Washington stationed the 
New England men to oppose the landing of the 
British in New York on September 15, 1776, 
you may recall — or don’t your Boston historians 


A SPIN IN THE AUTOMOBILE 55 


ever refer to it ? — how the Yankees ran until 
they got here, to the spot where this park is; 
and if Washington hadn’t rallied them and done 
his very best, they’d have been captured, every 
one of them. This is where the Croton Reservoir 
used to be, and right over there, just west of it, is 
where the Crystal Palace was.” 

“What was the Crystal Palace?” 

“Why, you poor ignorant Bostonian, it was the 
first American World’s Fair. That is where 
they had the celebration after the Atlantic cable 
was laid in 1858.” 

“Cyrus W. Field was a New Englander.” 

“Yes; he’s another of the New Englanders that 
had to come here to find a chance to do anything. 
Up here on Broadway, between Forty-third and 
Forty-fourth streets, is the place where Washing- 
ton met ‘Old Put’ when the Yankee was doing his 
best to get away from the redcoats. Ever hear 
about that?” 

“I’ll look it up.” 

“Don’t look it up in your New England his- 
tories. We won’t stop here — this is too new,” 
continued Scott, as the automobile came to Fifty- 
ninth street and Eighth Avenue. “I think, my- 
self, this is a beautiful column. It was put up in 


56 FOUR BOYS IN LAND OF COTTON 


1892 to commemorate the four hundredth anni- 
versary of the discovery of America. Those 
figures of Columbus and the Genius of Geography 
are of Carrara marble. Ever hear of Columbus 
up your way? He discovered America, but he 
didn’t have time to stop in Boston.” 

“The Norsemen did, though, and they came 
before Columbus.” 

“You people in Boston think they did.” 

“We know they did, ” began John, warmly; but 
the automobile had now turned into Central 
Park, and he was at once interested in what he 
was seeing. 

“Never mind all this — it’s too new for you,” 
said Scott, with a laugh. “I want you to see 
where McGowan’s Pass was — ” 

“It’s against the law to give 1 passes’ now.” 

“Well, McGowan’s Pass was here, anyway, in 
the days of the Revolution, and in the war of 1812, 
too. Fort Clinton was here, too, and there was an 
old block-house at 110th Street. But perhaps 
you’d rather see the monuments; they’re more 
in your line. Alexander Hamilton, Morse, Web- 
ster, Fitz-Greene Halleck, Columbus — ” 

“It’s a beautiful spot, anyway,” murmured 
John. 


A SPIN IN THE AUTOMOBILE 57 


“It seems so, of course, to a man that has never 
heard of anything but Plymouth Rock, and has 
been fed on codfish all his life. Codfish, johnny- 
cake, and pie, — these three, and the greatest of 
these — ” 

“Is that Columbia University V’ asked John. 

“That is ; but it's too new to interest you. This 
site was dedicated only in 1896 — you see Co- 
lumbia has moved three times. She wants to 
keep abreast of things. But all you’ll care for is 
that right here was fought the Battle of Harlem 
Heights. Now I’ll show you Grant’s tomb.” 

Neither of the boys had much to say when they 
halted at 123d Street and Riverside Drive, and 
leaving the car began to inspect the pictu- 
resque and beautiful memorial of the great 
general. The view of the lordly Hudson added 
to the impressiveness of the scene; and then, 
until Scott’s warning that they must hasten if 
they would escape the rain, John had not once 
spoken. 

“I must show you Hamilton Grange, the old 
home of Alexander Hamilton. Why, Jack, some 
of the thirteen trees he himself planted are still 
standing. And you must see the Jumel mansion 
which Colonel Morris built in 1758. You know 


58 FOUR BOYS IN LAND OF COTTON 


he married Mary Phillipse, the girl Washington 
himself wanted to marry. " 

“His wife was Martha/' protested John. 

“So she was, but he married her after Mary 
Phillipse said ‘no’ to him. John Jacob Astor 
bought this place and sold it to Stephen Jumel. 
His wife was a Miss Capet, a great belle of New- 
port, and after his death she married Aaron Burr, 
when he was seventy-seven years old. They 
didn't live long or very happily together, though. 
But Louis Philippe, Lafayette, Louis Napoleon, 
and his brother Joseph were guests here — 
Hello, there’s the rain!" Scott added abruptly. 

“I can’t take you on to Fort Washington, up at 
183d Street, nor to old Fort George. You'll 
have to take my word for them." 

At Scott's command the chauffeur turned the 
car back over the way they had come, and when 
they once more passed Alexander Hamilton's 
old home, Scott said, “This is the spot from which 
Hamilton started when he set out that morning of 
July 11, 1804, and rowed across the Hudson for his 
duel with Burr." 

“What a pity Hamilton wasn't a Frenchman," 
said John, slowly. 

“I don't know what you mean." 


A SPIN IN THE AUTOMOBILE 59 


“Oh, they have such a nice way of fighting 
duels. No one is hurt, no one is even hit, and 
they’re all satisfied — at least their honor is. I 
heard of a Frenchman who was in Boston the 
other day, and he was telling about his experiences 
in being a second in some duels. The first one he 
had a part in turned out bad for him, for he was 
the fellow that was shot — got a bullet in his 
shoulder. The next time he insisted that he 
should be allowed to climb a tree. Everybody 
agreed, and he perched himself up on a branch, but 
it didn’t do any good. He was hit again. The 
only man in a French duel that is safe is the man 
that is fired at.” 

“Poor Hamilton!” said Scott. “He didn’t 
have any such luck.” 

“He lived in the wrong place. New York isn’t 
a healthy place for any one.” 


CHAPTER V 


AN UNEXPECTED ARRIVAL 

A shout arose from the two boys when at the 
door of Scott's home they discovered their friend 
Larcum. Rushing up the steps, they both greeted 
him in their own noisy and demonstrative manner, 
and Scott inquired eagerly, when they had entered 
the house: “Larc, where did you come from? 
We hadn't a thought we'd see you till we were in 
Memphis." 

“Oh, I got a few additional days off for my 
vacation," responded Larcum, glibly. 

“That's where the advantage of being in 
business with one's father comes in," said John. 
“The son of a railroad magnate has — " 

“Don't you believe it," interrupted Larcum. 
“My father is so afraid that he can't stand up 
straight with me that he fairly tips backward. 
Why, when they raised my salary last week to six 
per, he nearly objected. He said he didn't think 
any favors ought to be given his son just because 


AN UNEXPECTED ARRIVAL 


61 


he happened to be a member of his family. I’m 
trying to bear my honors gracefully, though; and 
if you fellows think six dollars a week come with- 
out working, you’re mightily mistaken, that’s all 
I have to say.” 

“How could you get away, Larcum? I can’t 
quite understand how the great corporation 
crawls along without you,” said Scott. 

“Oh, I believe they took one freight-train off the 
schedule last week, and of course that makes the 
work a little lighter. But I’ve a suspicion that 
my mother had something to do with it. She 
told my father how hard I had been working: 
my appetite was going, and my poor emaciated 
frame needed a rest. Besides, she knew how 
much I wanted to come on and join you fellows 
here, though neither one of you seems to be aware 
of the honor of having one of the officials of the 
T. G. and P. for a travelling companion.” 

Both Scott and John laughed at their huge 
friend’s reference to his labors and the need of 
rest which his fond mother believed was his. 
In his appearance the stalwart old guard of the 
best foot-ball team Wendell had ever had did not 
show any very pronounced danger of wasting 
away. His vigor was as marked, his great 


62 FOUR BOYS IN LAND OF COTTON 


strength as much in evidence, as in the days 
when his friends had frantically cheered his efforts 
on the foot-ball field. 

“It’s all right as long as you are here, old man,” 
said Scott, warmly. “If you had come a little 
sooner, I’d have taken you along with us, for I’ve 
been showing John all the old graves and the 
monuments in New York. You know he thinks 
that’s history, but you mustn’t blame him, poor 
chap. He comes from Boston, and he can’t 
help that. If I had had my way, I’d have taken 
him where he’d see what men are doing now. 
For my part, I’m a good deal more interested in 
what is going on now than I am in the grave of 
some old fellow who really believed he was the 
king-pin in his times — not even if his name was 
John Adams.” 

“You don’t mean to say that you’ve been out 
in all that rain, Jack, just to see where some of 
the old boys are buried?” demanded Larcum. 

“No, my friend,” replied John, soberly. “We 
were not out in all that rain as you seem to imply. 
We were out only in that portion that fell imme- 
diately upon our own anatomical proportions.” 

“You’ve forgotten where Jack comes from, 
Larc,” laughed Scott, delightedly. 


AN UNEXPECTED ARRIVAL 


63 


“I'm likely to remember it while we’re away 
on this trip / 7 responded Larcum, demurely. “I 
say, fellows, what do you think of this new fad 
they call the ‘ simplified spelling’ ? You’re both 
in college, and you ought to know. I’m only 
a plain business man at six per, as I remarked 
before.” 

“I think it’s a good thing,” said Scott, quickly, 
“ though I don’t just see what it has to do with 
the rain.” 

“It hasn’t anything to do with it,” replied 
Larcum. 

“Yes, it has,” suggested John. “You speak of 
a ‘ spell’ of weather, don’t you?” Ignoring the 
groan that greeted his words, he continued, “I 
don’t favor it, Larc, as far as I’m concerned; 
but then, you know Scott, here, declares that I 
never like anything new, anyway.” 

“That’s what bothers me,” said Larcum, de- 
murely. “What I can’t understand, is why you 
call it ‘new.’ I hear about the ‘new’ spelling and 
all that, but I can’t see anything very new or 
startling about it. It’s the way I’ve spelled 
almost ever since I can remember.” 

Even John joined in Scott’s shout of joy as he 
said: “It’s all right, anyway, Larc, as long as you 


64 FOUR BOYS IN LAND OF COTTON 


have come on here and joined us. Think he can 
get a state-room for to-morrow night, Scott ?” 

“That’s a good suggestion. I’ll go right up 
and telephone now.” 

“Don’t forget to state that it’s for a railway king 
whose salary is six per!” called Larcum, as his 
friend departed from the room. 

In a brief time Scott returned, reporting that 
he had secured the room adjoining the one which 
had been reserved for himself and John, and with 
the solution of that problem the three boys 
retired to Scott’s room. 

“Whew! See it rain!” exclaimed Scott, as he 
drew back the curtain and peered out into the 
street. “I really ought to have gone to the 
dentist this afternoon. I’ve put my visit off 
longer than I ought to, and we passed the dental 
parlors only half an hour ago; I think I’ll wait 
now till we come back from our trip.” 

“Is that what you call them in New York?” 
demanded Larcum. 

“Call what?” 

“Do you call these rooms of the dentist his 
parlors?” 

“Why, yes. What would you call them?” 

“In Chicago we call them 1 drawing ’-rooms.” 


AN UNEXPECTED ARRIVAL 


65 


“That's all right, Larc ! I really believe your 
business career has been sharpening your wits/' 
laughed Scott. 

“Of course it has. I don’t spend my time 
digging up old Greek roots or trying to find out 
what the population of the parallelogram was in 
the era before the obfuscation of the Colossus of 
Rhodes. Not much. I’ve more serious matters 
than that to think of. I tell you this bread-and- 
butter problem beats any of your problems in 
algebra all to pieces. I’m doing things, I am! 
I haven’t any time to waste on the old fellows 
who ‘ thence marched four parasangs,’ or the idiot 
that got up the conjugation of the mi-verbs. 
I wonder what he ever thought he was doing, 
anyway?” 

“Honestly, Larc, aren’t you sorry you didn’t 
work a little harder and go on to college with us ?” 
demanded John. 

“Your question, sir, is exceedingly personal,” re- 
torted Larcum, in mock dignity. “As far as being 
in your delightful society is concerned, why, my 
trip from Chicago to New York, instead of 
following out my original intention of going down 
the Mississippi and joining you at Memphis, ought 
to speak for itself. And there may be times, too, 


66 FOUR BOYS IN LAND OF COTTON 


even in the stress of my business cares, when I 
may, perhaps, long for the geometrical figures of 
the gridiron or the more elusive solution of an 
in-curve; but whenever I stop to think of ' thence 
he marched a day’s journey, nine parasangs,’ 
or that other fascinating picture over which I 
toiled many a weary midnight when the Pius- 
iEneas tried to get his paternal father’s head in 
chancery, then I’m quite content to be busy with 
the four thousand miles of the T. G. and P. rail- 
road. I don’t think I was cut out for bones 
and roots and tombs — and parasangs,” he added 
feelingly. 

“If they’d only make athletics ‘ elective,’ Larc, 
you’d be all right,” suggested John. 

“They do,” retorted Larcum, somewhat 
warmly. “At least you know as well as I do that 
if I had really wanted to go in for the tombs and 
history, the mere fact that I didn’t happen to 
know just what the future infinitive passive of 
esse happened to be, wouldn’t have barred me 
out.” 

“It would in our college,” said John, quickly. 
“You know — ” 

“Don’t you believe it!” interrupted Larcum. 
“I could show you a letter or two that might open 


AN UNEXPECTED ARRIVAL 


67 


your eyes. I tell you if I had really wanted to go 
to college I could have got in all right. There is 
only one thing in your whole course that is not 
elective.” 

“What’s that?” demanded John. 

“That’s the term bill.” 

“You’re not so far out of the way, Larc,” 
laughed Scott. “But the only thing that blocked 
you, and you know it, was your — ” 

“It was not my lack of ability, if that is what you 
mean to imply,” interrupted Larcum. “I found 
out where my talent would be best developed, 
that’s all. I’m a railroad man, that’s what. 
I’m earning my daily bread at six per. Say, 
Scott,” he abruptly inquired, “do you think 
this trip down the coast is likely to be any worse 
for you than that day when you had that headache 
out on Lake Erie? You referred to that body of 
water as a ‘fresh-water pond,’ if I recollect aright.” 1 

“Never you mind that,” rejoined Scott, in some 
confusion; “I really did have a headache that 
day, and you know it.” 

“Of course I know it,” said Larcum, grimly. 
“Every one that saw you knew it, too, I have 
a kodak of you hanging over the rail and watching 
1 See “ Four Boys in the Yellowstone.” 


68 FOUR BOYS IN LAND OF COTTON 


that yachting cap of yours as it started for Canada. 
I was just wondering how the prospect of this 
voyage affected you, that’s all.” 

“Oh, he’s so delighted he can hardly contain 
himself,” remarked John, dryly. 

“So? That’s the way it seemed to affect him 
on Lake Erie, too, wasn’t it, Jack?” inquired 
Larcum, soberly. 

“Yes, it certainly was,” laughed John. 

“Never you mind !” said Scott, warmly. “I’ve 
crossed the ocean twice and never missed a meal. 
I wasn’t seasick on Lake Erie any more than 
you were; I just had a headache, that was 
all.” 

“Strange about seasickness,” said Larcum. 
“It seems to affect people so differently. Now 
there are some men that seem to lose all their 
moral sense — along with a few other things. For 
my part, I never could see why a fellow like Scott 
here should lose all idea of truth in a time like 
that. He stands up and he really acts as if we 
didn’t know what was the matter with him, and 
declares by all that’s great and good that he was 
having the time of his life.” 

“I think he was, Larc, don’t you?” inquired 
John. 


AN UNEXPECTED ARRIVAL 


69 


“It isn't exactly the way I'd choose. How is it 
with you, Jack?" 

“You fellows just wait till we get off Long 
Branch," declared Scott, striving to ignore the 
bantering of his friends. “I want you to rec- 
ollect — " 

“ Oh, Scott's always telling us how one 
thing suggests another to him. Remember 
about Durer's paintings — what he said about 
them?" demanded Larcum of John. “That's 
just Scott's way. It's like seasickness — one 
thing always brings up another when he is 
around." 

“You just wait," warned Scott. 

“That's right. We'll wait, all right. I'm glad 
I accepted that pressing and cordial invitation of 
Scott's to come and stay right here with him in 
his house," Larcum continued. “Do you know, 
I think New York is the worst place on earth for 
charging people. It's the most grasping crowd 
I ever saw." 

“What do you mean, Larc?" 

“Just what I say. You beat the world for your 
charges. Why, the last time I was in New York 
I put up at your finest hotel over here — oh, I 
don't know the name of the street." 


70 FOUR BOYS IN LAND OF COTTON 


“Bowery/ 7 suggested Scott. 

“No, it wasn’t the Bowery. It was Fifth 
Avenue or Broadway, or some other street. Well, 
anyway, one night I was sitting there in the lobby' 
after dinner, talking to my father, and trying as 
best I could in my infantile way to beguile him 
from the fears that beset him whenever he comes 
to this little hamlet, and the first thing I knew my 
foot got ‘asleep. 7 I happened to mention the 
fact to my father, and I never can forget the look 
of alarm that spread over his intellectual coun- 
tenance — you know he resembles me in some 
ways — when I spoke of it. 77 

“I don’t see how the fact of your foot being 
asleep should have disturbed him so,” said Scott, 
innocently. “Anyway, you can’t blame New 
York for that.” 

“I’m not ‘blaming 7 anybody. I’m just 
giving you facts, that’s all. When I told my 
father what had happened, he jumped up and 
looked all around him as if he was almost too 
frightened to speak. Then he leaned over and 
whispered in my ear.” 

Larcum’s companions were both silent, and 
sat looking straight across the room as if each was 
ignorant of Larcum’s presence. Certainly neither 


AN UNEXPECTED ARRIVAL 


71 


was willing to ask the suggested question which 
their friend had implied. 

“Don’t you want to know what my father 
whispered to me ? ” demanded Larcum, in apparent 
anger. “He’s a good man, he is, though I have 
hopes he will improve after I have had him under 
my supervision a few months longer. You see, 
circumstances over which I have had no control 
have compelled me to be away from home much 
of the time in recent years, so, naturally, he has 
fallen into some ways of looking at things of which 
I cannot say that I fully approve. But I’m doing 
my best for him — ” 

“Oh, give us what he whispered in your ear, Larc, 
if we must have it, ” said Scott, in mock despair. 
“You have no right to keep us in this terrible 
suspense any longer.” 

“What he said, sir, was this,” retorted Larcum, 
“and his voice was like Lady Macbeth’s when he 
said it, too: ‘My boy, my boy, don’t, please 
don’t, say that so any one can hear you. If any 
of the hotel people should, by accident, hear" 
your foot was asleep, they would immediately 
charge me for lodging ; and as it is, I have barely 
enough money left to take us out of the town. ’ ” 


CHAPTER VI 


THE OCEAN BLUE 

It was four o’clock of the following afternoon 
when the three friends were on board the steamer 
by which they were to sail for the South. The 
day had been oppressively warm, but despite the 
heat the scene of animation was one that deeply 
interested all three. Friends assembled on the 
pier were waving their farewells to passengers, 
men were busied in the last preparations before 
the sailing of the Jamestown , and there were calls 
and laughter to be heard on every side. 

“ There he comes,” suddenly exclaimed Lar- 
cum, as a man was seen coming swiftly down the 
pier, and after the gang-plank had been with- 
drawn by the aid of several employees, was 
pulled and drawn on board. 

“Who is he? Do you know him, Larc?” in- 
quired John. 

“Can’t say that I do,” laughed Larcum; “but 
even if I don’t know what his name is, I knew 

72 


THE OCEAN BLUE 


73 


he'd come. There's always some such fellow 
who comes jumping over the boxes and bowling 
over the people just as the boat is ready to pull 
out. I knew this fellow wouldn't fail us." 

“Well, he didn't/' said Scott, lightly. “Come 
out here to the stern, fellows. We'll get a better 
view of the harbor. I don't boast of New York 
the way some of you do over your little burgs, 
but they tell us this is about the finest harbor in 
all the world." 

“Oh, it will do, it will do," acknowledged Lar- 
cum, graciously. “What I don't like, is that your 
people think everything in the whole country 
ought to come here to be shipped. When we 
get that canal cut through from Chicago to the 
Mississippi we'll make New York look like a 
backwoods town. Almost as bad as Boston, 
for we'll send our stuff down to New Orleans, 
where it belongs." 

“You ought to send it if it 1 belongs' there," 
retorted Scott. “It'll be the first time in your 
history you ever gave up anything, whether it 
belonged to you or not, I fancy. But you 
can dig all the canals you want to, and your 
railroad men can try all they please, you 
won't be able to change this harbor. My father 


74 FOUR BOYS IN LAND OF COTTON 

says that the natural shipping-points can’t be 
changed. Just see how Emperor William has 
been digging canals and trying to change the 
commerce of the Rhine — ” 

“ Bother the German Emperor and his Rhine 
and Chicago, too. I want to see what’s going on 
about us,” exclaimed John. “This certainly is 
what Lee would call a ‘ pretty’ sight, Scott. I’ll 
have to own up that much.” 

Surely there was much to warrant the gracious 
words of John Adams Field, Jr. A huge ocean- 
going steamer with its attendant tugboat was near 
them, starting on its long voyage across the sea. 
Craft of various kinds coming or going were to 
be seen until the North River itself seemed almost 
to be crowded. Huge ferry-boats were moving 
across the river like so many shuttles, and numer- 
ous yachts lent beauty to the scene by their grace- 
ful outlines and the speed with which they were 
darting through the apparently confused throngs. 
Upon all alike the glowing sunshine of the sum- 
mer day was shining with a glory all its own, and 
in a measure, at least, coloring all with some- 
thing of the joy and brightness that was in 
the hearts of the three travellers. Governor’s 
Island, the majestic figure of Liberty, the buildings 


THE OCEAN BLUE 


75 


upon Ellis Island, where the flow of incoming 
immigrants was received, were all pointed out and 
admired, although Larcum’s praise was somewhat 
grudgingly given; and then John, pointing back 
at the jagged sky-line which the towering office 
buildings of the great city presented, said banter- 
ingly ; — 

“There’s one thing, Scott, you’ll have to 
acknowledge, and that is, that you people here 
haven’t gone very far in your appreciation of the 
beautiful. Just look at that sky-line, will you ! 
The teeth of a saw are regular and artistic com- 
pared with that. It is enough to make a man 
think he is cross-eyed, just to look at it!” 

“ Don’t you believe it !” retorted Scott, warmly. 
“That sky-line is beautiful. I tell you it is ! ” he 
added, as his friends laughed. “I heard an artist 
say not long ago that it was a relief to get back 
home and see that sight as he came up the bay. 
He said the regular lines of the buildings in Paris, 
for example, got on his nerves. There wasn’t any 
more variety in it than there was in the waters of 
those fresh-water ponds we were sailing on last 
summer. This man said if one wanted to see the 
beautiful, he had only to look at a range of moun- 
tains, — they were not all of the same size and 


76 FOUR BOYS IN LAND OF COTTON 


shape, — or look at the ocean in a storm. The 
waves don’t all come in exactly of the same size 
and all of the same height. Not much ! You 
can talk about your smooth fresh-water ponds, 
or your ‘ sky-line’ in Paris, if you want to, but for 
my part, I like a little variety in mine. I think 
it’s a good thing that all people don’t look 
alike — ” 

“ Except ‘ coons,’ ” interrupted Larcum, gravely. 

The boys laughed at their friend’s solemn dec- 
laration, and even Scott’s irritation was gone 
as he turned to point out places on Staten Island 
with which he was familiar, and then related 
some of his experiences on Coney Island as the 
ship passed its shores. 

“ Sandy Hook is ahead yonder,” Scott explained, 
as he pointed toward a long arm that extended 
from the Jersey shore. “I wish we could stop 
and see some of the guns there. There are some 
that can throw a cannon-ball a distance of sixteen 
miles — ” 

“ You’ll be able to 'throw’ as far as that, 
Scott, if you have another one of your headaches 
come on,” suggested Larcum. 

"I’d give my trunk if I could catch you in 
that predicament,” retorted Scott, half angrily. 


THE OCEAN BLUE 


77 


“ Maybe HI have a chance, too, before we land 
to-morrow morning, though there isn’t a breath 
of wind, and it’s going to be still to-night, unless all 
signs fail.” 

“Well, if we are sick,” said John, “we won’t 
talk about it’s being only a pond we’re sailing on, 
will we, Larc?” 

“Hardly; I’ve seen Lake Michigan when its 
waves were twice as high as these. Why, this 
isn’t anything more than a cradle ! You have to 
look sharp at the bow to see that there is any 
curve at all.” 

“You just wait,” said Scott. “After we’ve 
passed Sandy Hook, you may sing another tune. 
Still, it’s too calm to expect any such luck.” 

“Scott, you were speaking just now about 
your artist friend from Paris who fed you on such 
nice words about the sky-line of New York. I 
met an artist from Paris this summer, too. He 
played on the Harvard foot-ball team five or six 
years ago, and has been in Paris studying art.” 

“Could he play foot-ball any better than he 
could paint?” inquired Larcum. “I understand 
these fellows have to be artists, or sons of poets, 
or something or other like that, or they can’t 
make the team. They act like it, too, when they 


78 FOUR BOYS IN LAND OF COTTON 


run up against a team from Yale or Princeton. 
Why, a friend of mine who is a Princeton mail 
told me that after Harvard and Princeton had 
been playing base-ball for four or five years, and 
Harvard had managed somehow to win one game 
in the whole series, that Harvard quit then, and 
said her games with Princeton were only 1 prac- 
tice games, anyway, and didn’t count for much.’ 
Then this Princeton man rose up in his scorn and 
remarked that ‘if Harvard was after “ practice” 
in her games with Princeton she ought to be pretty 
well satisfied, for she certainly had plenty of it, 
particularly her out-fielders.’ I think that is a 
mighty good one myself!” and the huge Larcum 
laughed loudly as he spoke. 

“ What’s the joke? I don’t see anything 
very funny about that,” said John, solemnly. 

“Why, you see,” began Larcum, seriously, “it 
wasn’t the same word ‘ practice’ in both those 
sentences. The way Harvard used it gave it one 
meaning, and the way Princeton used it gave it 
another. They weren’t the same at all.” 

“Is that so?” said John, soberly. 

“Yes; don’t you see it?” 

“Oh, go on with your Harvard Frenchman, 
Jack. What about him?” demanded Scott. 


THE OCEAN BLUE 


79 


“Why, I was just going to explain that he 
kept up his interest in athletics after he went to 
Paris — ” 

“'Kept up his interest’? 'Kept up his inter- 
est’? Do you mean to say he had any ' interest’ 
when he was in Harvard? I have always heard 
it was considered bad form for a fellow to be 
'interested’ in anything there. 'It’s bad form, 
don’t you know.’ But George — ” 

“Oh, go on, Jack,” implored Scott. “This 
suspense will give me a headache.” 

“I was about to relate, when this wild Westerner 
interrupted me, that this friend of mine kept up 
his interest in athletics after he went to Paris. 
He joined an athletic club there, and he made a 
specialty of boxing, but he said the Frenchmen, 
when they boxed, almost broke him up, for they 
used their feet more than they did their hands — ” 

“Kicked? Do you mean that?” interrupted . 
Larcum. 

“Yes; and they had a good deal of preliminary 
work before they began, too. They had to bow 
and scrape and shake hands and parlez vous for 
about five minutes before they struck out. One 
day there was a young Englishman who happened 
to be in the club, and some one reported that he 


80 FOUR BOYS IN LAND OF COTTON 


was said to be a good boxer, and they persuaded 
him to put on the gloves and have a friendly 
bout with the French champion of the club. 
All the Frenchmen were bowing and smiling, for 
they were positive their champion would soon 
show the Britisher a thing or two. At last the 
two men faced each other, but the young English- 
men didn’t know anything about the bowing and 
scraping business, and he let fly a good straight 
one, and Mr. Frenchman sat down hard before the 
performance had fairly begun. And that wasn’t 
all, either. The Frenchman, just as they always 
do, began to cry and rub his cheek where the other 
fellow’s glove had touched it. ‘Oh! O-o-o-h, 
Ouch ! Ou-u-ch ! ’ he kept saying, and they 
couldn’t get him to try it again.” 

“Tell us the story, Jack,” said Larcum. 

“That is the story. I’ve just told it,” retorted 
John. 

“Why did the Frenchman sit down?” inquired 
Scott. 

“He had to; he couldn’t stand up. You see 
he’d been taken unawares — ” 

“Who took him?” 

“Why, the young Englishman, as I told 
you.” 


THE OCEAN BLUE 


81 


“Did you tell us ? Tell us again. Tell us some 
more.” 

“I’ll tell you no more,” laughed John. “I’m 
going to take a walk around the deck. I feel 
the need of exercise. Hello, Larc, what’s the 
trouble? You look a trifle pale. Doesn’t he, 
Scott?” he added, turning to his friend. 

“I believe he does, for a fact,” exclaimed Scott, 
gleefully. ' ‘ He really does ! ” 

“I’ll own up that my head does feel a bit 
queer,” acknowledged the huge Larcum, “but if 
you fellows think I’m not equal to a walk around 
the deck, you just try me.” 

The steamer was now off the Jersey coast, and 
New York had been left far behind. The dim 
outlines of the shore could be seen, but the James- 
town was now under the full sweep of the ocean. 
The vessel would be lifted by some huge wave, 
and then gently and almost tenderly dropped to 
its former position. Almost with the regularity 
of a cradle the steamer was swung in the heavy 
ground-swell, and many a traveller is less able to 
endure such a motion than he is the rougher 
tossing of a heavy storm. 

As the three boys walked rapidly toward the 
bow, they were all silent, and if Larcum was 


82 FOUR BOYS IN LAND OF COTTON 


aware of the unusual stillness he did not refer 
to it. It may have been that his own thoughts 
were too engrossing at the moment to permit of 
considering the condition of his companions. 

“What are all those young fellows up here in 
the bow for?” inquired Scott of a young naval 
officer who was standing near, for the three 
friends had stopped, and were watching an as- 
sembly of fifty or more young men. 

“I’m taking them to the training-ship, and some 
of them are sick of their bargain already,” laughed 
the lieutenant. “ I never had a gang that re- 
sponded to Old Neptune’s appeal so soon. Just 
see those five chaps,” he added, with a laugh, as 
five of his charges made a desperate attempt to 
force their way through the line that already 
was clinging to the rail. 

“Come on, fellows ! This doesn’t interest me,” 
said Larcum. 

“You look pale, Larc — and so do you, Jack !” 
said Scott, delightedly. “This will be great! 
You’ll never hear the end of this.” 

“I’m beginning to be afraid I shan’t, and I 
don’t know that I care very much whether I do or 
not,” responded John, gloomily. 

“Just think of the bones and fires of your 


THE OCEAN BLUE 


83 


ancestors, Jack. Perhaps that will cheer you a 
bit. Bunker Hill, Plymouth Rock, Concord and 
Lexington, General Warren, Salem witches, cod- 
fish — ” 

“Don’t, Scott! Don’t! Please don’t!” pleaded 
John, miserably. 

“But I will !” declared Scott. “Who talked to 
me of Lake Erie? And I wasn’t seasick a bit 
when we were there, either. Keep it up, fellows ! 
You don’t seem to be able to walk very straight,” 
he added, as his two friends lagged behind. 

Faster and still faster Scott led the way on the 
walk around the deck, and his face glowed as 
the wretchedness of his friends became steadily 
more apparent, in their determined efforts to keep 
up with him. 

“There! There’s the call for dinner!” Scott 
exclaimed. “Come on, fellows, and get a good 
meal. Codfish — ” 

But Scott paused as John suddenly darted to 
the rail. 

“You and I’ll have all the more, Larc. Come 
on,” said Scott to his remaining friend. Larcum 
followed slowly, but when they arrived at the door 
of the dining room, Larcum, almost in agony, 
exclaimed, “Fish! Fish! I can’t stand that!” 


84 FOUR BOYS IN LAND OF COTTON 


Abruptly leaving his friend, he returned to the 
deck, while Scott turned to hear what a colored 
boy, who had approached and inquired “if he 
was Mr. Gordon,” was saying to him. 


CHAPTER VII 

DOING GOOD 

“The cap’ll invites you young gen’lemen to 
come up and see him/’ the colored boy was saying, 
and Scott recalled what he had forgotten in the 
excitement of the departure from New York, that 
his father had informed him of a letter he had sent 
the captain of the Jamestown, in which he had 
requested his friend — for Mr. Gordon was in- 
terested financially in the line, and personally 
knew Captain Tuttle well — “to keep an eye” on 
the three young travellers. 

“All right,” responded Scott. “My friends are 
always glad of an opportunity to explain what 
great men they are in their own little towns, and 
I’ll bring them right along. It’s good of Captain 
Tuttle to think of us.” 

“He suhtainly is a fine gen’leman, suh,” replied 
the boy. “I’ll show yo’ the way to his cabin, 
suh.” 


85 


86 FOUR BOYS IN LAND OF COTTON 


“Does he often receive passengers there ?” 
inquired Scott. 

“No, suh. No, suh. He only does so once 
occasionally, suh. He’s a right fine gen’leman, 
suh, Cap’n Tuttle is. I’ll take you directly to his 
quarters, suh.” 

“All right. Dinner will wait. I’ll speak to my 
friends,” Scott added, as he glanced at Larcum 
and John, who were side by side, and leaning over 
the rail as if they were interestedly watching the 
wonderful marine view in the twilight that was 
rapidly gathering. 

“Come on, fellows!” exclaimed Scott, as he 
drew near his two friends. “Captain Tuttle has 
just sent word that we are to come to his cabin. 
It’s mighty good of him,. and we’ll have a fine 
time.” 

“I don’t believe I care to meet strangers just 
now,” murmured John. 

“Same here,” chimed in Larcum, despondently. 

“Nonsense, fellows!” retorted Scott. “It’s 
a chance of a lifetime. You must come. The 
captain’s quarters will be fine and it will do you 
good just to see them. We can’t turn down such 
an invitation as this. Come on ! It’ll do your 
‘ headaches’ good,” he added gleefully. 


DOING GOOD 


87 


Reluctantly the two boys consented, and as 
they joined Scott and the colored boy, Scott with 
difficulty restrained his delight over the appear- 
ance which the two boys presented. John’s face 
was almost deathly pale, and Larcum’s was of 
a ghastly greenish tint that under other circum- 
stances would have instantly aroused the sym- 
pathy of any beholder. As it was, however, there 
was nothing but delight in Scott’s manner as he 
gazed at the faces of the sufferers. 

“I hope you won’t be seasick,” he said con- 
solingly. “There’s one thing about it, though, 
if you should chance to come down with it, and 
that is, that there isn’t a fatal case on record. 
They say it does one good, too, and many a time 
I’ve hoped I might have it just for that very 
reason. My ! the way a man eats after he has 
recovered. Nothing seems to satisfy him, and he 
can’t get enough of it, either.” 

“Scott Gordon, desist!” pleaded John. “Just 
eliminate all your superfluous badinage. Neither 
the occasion nor the desire of your compatriots 
coincides with your mirth-provoking proclivities. 
In the vernacular, I fancy the somewhat terse 
expression is — ‘Shut up !’” 

“Ever hear any language quite equal to that, 


88 FOUR BOYS IN LAND OF COTTON 


George? ” said Scott, a broad grin on his face as 
he turned to the colored boy. 

“He suhtainly does talk powerful fine, suh,” 
replied the boy, gazing in admiration at John. 
The well-known propensity of the colored people 
to make use of high-sounding words was familiar 
to Scott, and he had sought to “comfort” his 
friend by the appreciation of the colored guide. 

“Of course he does,” responded Scott. “You 
ought to hear him, though, when he is delirious, as 
I think he will be soon. That other fellow there, 
he doesn’t talk much when he has an attack. 
He’s more like Yon Moltke. You know they used 
to say of him that he could be silent in seven 
languages.” 

“Mistah Moke doesn’t ’pear very peart at the 
present moment, suh.” 

“He doesn’t for a fact,” roared Scott. “But, 
George, this isn’t Yon Moltke. That is not his 
name. This young gentleman comes from Bos- 
ton’s classic shades. He has more bones of his 
ancestors in his body than any man in the world 
ever had before. Why, George, up where he lives 
they don’t use the ordinary committal service even 
when they commit the body to the ground, ‘dust 
to dust,’ and all that.” 


DOING GOOD 


89 


“No, suh. No, suh. In course they don’t,” 
assented “George,” glibly. 

“That’s right, George. You are correct, sir. 
Of course you are. They say ‘we commit this 
dust/ which once belonged to Cotton Mather, 
Anne Hutchinson, Roger Williams, Jack Robinson, 
Plymouth Rock and Bunker Hill — to say nothing 
of E Pluribus Unum — for a brief time to the 
ground from which it didn’t come, to rest for a 
time till some other distinguished Bostonian — ” 

“Here we are, suh !” interrupted the guide, as he 
halted before the door of the captain’s quarters. 

“Thank you. We will detain you no longer, 
then,” said Scott, as he thrust a small coin into the 
hand of the grinning colored boy. “Now, then, 
step up, gentlemen,” he added, as he turned to 
his friends. “Step up and show your colors. 
Not that color, Larcum. Your greenish hue no 
doubt is the reflection of the emerald hues of the 
sea, or perhaps of the Emerald Isle. It’s true blue 
we want here.” 

“I’m blue, all right,” groaned the huge Larcum, 
miserably. “What a fool I was to come this way. 
Maybe it pays, but I don’t believe it.” 

The door was opened by the captain himself, who 
greeted his callers cordially, and at once invited 


90 FOUR BOYS IN LAND OF COTTON 


them to enter. The quarters were near the bow 
of the steamer, and the motion of the boat was 
consequently more keenly felt. The air of the 
cabin, too, was not so cool as that of the deck, 
and for a moment John, whose misery was now 
apparently complete, hesitated on the threshold. 

“Come right in, Jack,” urged Scott, as he grasped 
his friend by the arm. “Captain Tuttle, I want 
to present my friends. This is Mr. John Adams 
Field, Jr., from Boston, and this is Mr. Larcum 
Brown, from Chicago — and the West.” 

“Glad to see you, young gentlemen. Come 
right in. Take some seats.” 

Scott could see that the captain’s quarters were 
exceedingly cosey, but neither of his companions 
looked up from the floor, and each alike presented 
a spectacle of misery, abject and complete. 

“I was very glad to receive Mr. Gordon’s note,” 
Captain Tuttle was saying. “He has been a good 
friend to me, and I shall be delighted to do any- 
thing in my power to make your trip enjoyable. 
Do you go on to Norfolk ? ” 

“No, sir,” replied Scott. “We leave the boat 
at Old Point Comfort.” 

“Some people have thought old Captain John 
Smith, when he arrived there nearly three hundred 


DOING GOOD 


91 


years ago and gave that name to the point, was 
wiser than he knew. A good many have believed 
the name was most appropriate — though Captain 
John, of course, didn’t put the word ‘Old’ on the 
name. That is of a later origin.” As he spoke, 
Captain Tuttle glanced sympathetically at Lar- 
cum and John in their silent misery, and then smil- 
ingly looked at Scott. 

“Is that the first landing-place, Captain?” 
inquired Larcum, looking up for the first time 
since he had entered the room. 

“Yes, sir,” answered Captain Tuttle, sym- 
pathetically. “Do you wish there was one 
sooner?” 

“Yes, sir, I do,” declared Larcum. “I’d 
rather walk — ” 

Larcum did not complete the sentence, for he 
suddenly bolted for the door,, and a moment later 
John, without delaying to make any apology for his 
sudden exit, followed his friend’s example. Scott 
also followed them as far as the open door, where 
he stopped, and in a loud voice began to sing : — 

“Oh, Mr. Austin, stop the ship, 

I want to get off and walk. ” 

“That’s too bad,” laughed the captain. “A man 
who is exempt from seasickness ought not to make 


92 FOUR BOYS IN LAND OF COTTON 


the misery of others worse by laughing at 
them.” 

“It will do them good, Captain Tuttle,” de- 
clared Scott, glibly, as he and the captain reen- 
tered the cabin. “You don’t know them as I do. 
They need it. Were you ever seasick, Captain?” 

“Never. I have tried to be, sometimes, when 
we were out in a December gale, just so that I 
might sympathize with some of my passengers. 
But I’m exempt. Were you ever a victim ?” 

Scott glanced quickly through the open doorway 
to make certain that neither of his friends was 
within hearing, and then said glibly: “Never. 
Oh, I may have had a touch of headache on ship- 
board, the same as I have had on land. You have 
known cases like that, haven’t you, Captain 
Tuttle?” 

“Many of them,” replied the captain, dryly; 
but Scott, though he glanced up quickly into the 
face of Captain Tuttle, was unable to discover any 
hidden or implied meaning in the words beyond 
their ordinary meaning, and was content. 

A few minutes afterward, when he departed from 
the captain’s quarters in search of his friends, he 
had accepted the invitation for all three to have 
seats at the “captain’s table” in the dining room, 


DOING GOOD 


93 


but he was by no means confident that either 
Larcum or John would rejoice as he himself had 
at the captain’s offer. A careful search, however, 
failed to reveal the presence of either Larcum or 
John on the deck, and at last Scott went below to 
the state-rooms, thinking perhaps that the boys, 
for reasons of their own, might already have 
retired. His suspicion was confirmed when he 
discovered both boys apparently asleep, having 
made use of both lower bunks in the two adjoining 
rooms which had been assigned to the three boys. 
Distrustful of their apparent slumbers, Scott stood 
for a brief time waiting for John to open his eyes 
or speak to him. 

As the silence was unbroken, Scott spoke aloud 
as if he was merely addressing himself. “Ah, me ! 
To think the bones of John Adams should ever 
have come to this ! What a calamity for the 
scion of Bunker Hill. What a plight for the 
noble offspring of Plymouth Rock ! I say, Jack,” 
he added, almost shouting, “which do you want 
for your dinner — johnny-cake or codfish ? ” 

No response came from the bunk, however, 
and at last the tormentor prepared to depart ; but 
before he withdrew he continued his soliloquy: 
“What a pity that one of whom so much was 


94 FOUR BOYS IN LAND OF COTTON 

expected should be brought so low. Mark the 
ghastly face, note the livid cheek, the pallor as 
of death! Mayhap the noble Bostonian hath 
already breathed his last. Yea, I will plunge 
within that distorted, writhing form which now 
retains so little of its pristine nobility of face or 
feature my own well-tested steel and see if any 
trace of health doth yet remain. Gone is that 
appetite which of yore made its aristocratic posses- 
sor the marvel of his fellow-boarders. Gone the 
power to wag that wonderful jaw that eke did emit 
the incomprehensible vernacular of the bean-fed, 
codfish-nourished Native of Bosting. Alas ! No 
more beans, no more codfish — ” 

"Get out of here!” interrupted John Adams 
Field, Jr., with a shout that might have been heard 
even on the deck. The demand was followed by 
a pillow thrown against the head of the intruder, 
who instantly departed from the room. 

"HI just take a peep at Larc,” said Scott 
thoughtfully to himself, as he halted before the 
door of the other room. "Perhaps he’ll not be 
so savage as Jack, and he may need help. I’ll 
be good to him,” he added, as a gleam came 
into his eyes that for a moment seemed to belie the 
kind words that had been spoken. 


DOING GOOD 


95 


“How do you feel, Larc?” Scott inquired, as 
he entered the room. 

“Oh, o-o-oh!” groaned Larcum. “What a 
fool I was !” 

“Yes, poor fellow,” murmured Scott, apparently 
in deep sympathy. 

“O-oh! I'm s-s-sick!” wailed the huge Lar- 
cum. 

“Nobody ever dies from this trouble.” 

“Y-yes, they do.” 

“Oh, no ! No, they don’t. You’ll be all right 
in a week or two.” 

“How’s Jack?” 

“Worse off than you, Larc.” 

“O-oh, no he isn’t. He can’t be,” groaned 
Larcum. “I never felt so bad in my life. I’m 
going to die, Scott, I know I am. You t-tell my 
m-m-mother — ” 

The joyful Scott looked down at the great body 
before him, and could scarce restrain his delight. 
Think of it. Larc blubbering like a child. This 
fellow, whose ribs had been broken in foot-ball 
games, who again and again had met not only un- 
complainingly but even eagerly the onslaught of 
an opposing eleven. And now to see him in such 
a plight. Oh, it was too good to be true. Never 


96 FOUR BOYS IN LAND OF COTTON 


again would he hear the taunting words concern- 
ing “ headaches on fresh-water ponds.” 

“Larc, let me send up something for you to 
eat,” suggested Scott, though he took good care 
to see that the door was open and the way clear 
before he spoke. 

“No. Thank you, old man. I can’t eat. I’ll 
never eat any more.” 

“Just a bite, Larc, ” pleaded Scott, as he edged 
nearer the door. 

“No! I tell you I don’t want anything, any- 
thing ! Understand that ? ” 

“Make you feel better, Larc,” persisted Scott, 
wickedly. “Come now, old fellow, let me send up 
a heaping plate of fish — ” 

‘ ‘ 1 Fish ’ ! ‘ Fish ’ ! ” broke in Larcum. ‘ ‘ If you 
say ‘fish’ to me again, I’ll — ” 

“Fish! Fish! Fish! Fish! Codfish! Hali- 
but ! Suckers ! Fried fish ! Boiled fish ! Broiled 
fish — ” called Scott, as he retreated from the 
room, and then his flight became precipitate as 
Larcum leaped from his bunk. Scott could see 
that his friend’s face was distorted, and despite 
his suffering, he knew that Larcum’s hand and 
arm had not as yet lost all their power. The 
huge tackle abruptly stopped, and from the sounds 


DOING GOOD 


97 


which came from behind the barred door, Scott 
concluded that he was in no danger of pursuit. 

“This is an ungrateful world/’ he murmured as 
he sought the dining room. “Neither of those 
fellows seemed to take kindly to my suggestions. 
And yet I meant to do them good. I did that. 
I meant and I mean to ‘do’ them good and hard. 
And I will.” 


CHAPTER VIII 


THE “ MONITOR^ AND THE “MERRIMAC” 

Early on the following morning Scott was sur- 
prised when he appeared on deck to discover both 
Larcum and John standing near the rail. Ap- 
parently both boys had recovered from their 
“attack” of the preceding evening, and when Scott 
greeted them the only traces of their malady that 
remained were the paleness of their faces and 
the expression of their eyes. Scott’s coming 
evidently had interrupted a very earnest con- 
versation between his friends, and as he glanced 
keenly at them his suspicion was at once aroused 
that they had been concocting some scheme whose 
purpose he must guard against. 

“How are you this morning, boys?” Scott 
demanded, with a laugh, as he greeted his friends. 

“Fine!” responded Larcum. “How do you 
feel, Scott?” 

“I’m all right, just the same as I have been all 
the time.” 


THE “ MONITOR ” AND “MERRIMAC” 99 


“You didn’t look it last night, Scott,” declared 
Larcum, soberly. 

“You weren’t in any condition to judge, I’m 
afraid,” laughed Scott. “Two more woe-begone, 
forlorn specimens of the genus homo I never saw 
in all my life.” 

“There! What did I tell you, Larc?” de- 
manded John. “I told you Scott was delirious 
last night. We ought not to have left him alone 
for a minute. He might have gone overboard, 
you know, and no one would have been the wiser. 
Did you ever hear a man take on as Scott did?” 

“Never!” replied Larcum. “He was worse 
than when he had that ‘ headache ’ of his when we 
were out on Lake Erie. You look pale now, 
Scott,” he added. 

“That’s right. You ought to go down and 
look at yourself in a mirror,” said John. “You 
weren’t as pale even on Lake Erie as you are this 
morning. He acted just like a crazy man last 
night, didn’t he, Larc?” he added, turning to his 
friend. “You know an insane man always 
thinks he’s the only one that is sane in the crowd, 
and all the rest are crazy.” 

Scott laughed as he perceived what the design 
of his companions was. Plainly they had agreed 


L OF & 


100 FOUR BOYS IN LAND OF COTTON 


to declare that he had only imagined their sickness, 
and they were counting upon their own agree- 
ment as sufficient to discount any report he might 
make concerning their troubles. 

“Here, George!” exclaimed Scott, suddenly, 
as the colored boy, who had been their conductor 
to the quarters of Captain Tuttle the preceding 
afternoon, approached the group. Scott was 
so intent upon summoning the boy that he failed 
to observe the glance, expressive of their delight, 
which his two friends gave each other, and con- 
sequently was without suspicion that they had 
“seen” the colored boy and already arranged with 
him what he was to say. 

‘ ‘ Y aas, suh ! Y aas, suh ! ’ 7 responded ‘ ' George, ’ 7 
as he at once approached the trio. 

“George, were many of the passengers seasick 
last night?” inquired Scott. 

“Yaas, suh. One gendeman told me this 
mawnin’ that he felt mighty pody all night, and 
he had crossed the ocean six times and never 
had any trouble befo’, suh. That ground-swell 
is sho’ly mighty hard fo’ some folks.” 

“Did you notice anything wrong with either 
of these fellows?” demanded Scott, glancing at 
his two friends as he spoke. 


THE “MONITOR” AND “M ERR I MAC” 101 


“No, suh. Can’t say I did, suh.” 

“Did you see anything wrong with me, 
George?” 

“Well, suh,” responded George, dubiously/ as 
he scratched his head and grinned at John and 
Larcum, an act that was not lost upon Scott. 
“Well, suh, yo’ sho’ly did turn in mighty early, 
suh, an’ the last time I saw yo’ ’twas when yo’ 
was suhtainly lookin’ mighty portentious-like 
toward the railin’, suh.” 

“There, Scott, what did we tell you?” de- 
manded Larcum, triumphantly. “You had a 
nightmare. You were out of your head. Wasn’t 
he, Jack?” 

“It wasn’t the first or only time, either,” de- 
clared John. 

“George,” demanded Scott, turning sharply 
again to the young negro, “do you mean to tell 
me that you saw me seasick? I’ll go and bring 
Captain Tuttle — ” 

“No, suh ! No suh !” explained George, hastily. 
“I don’ say ’twas exac’ly sick, suh. But you 
did look as if the presumptuousness was all 
favorable. Yo’ look like yo’ was goin’ t’ have 
the 'misery.’ Jes’ like my sister, suh. She had 
the 'misery’ so bad las’ time I was home that there 


102 FOUR BOYS IN LAND OF COTTON 


wasn’t no hope fo’ her till the doctah done insert 
the epidemic in her arm, suh.” 

“Did she get well, George?” inquired Scott; 
soberly. 

“Yaas, suh. She’s daid now, suh.” 

Why the death of George’s sister should have 
been a source of merriment, perhaps was not 
plain, but even the colored boy joined in the 
laughter that followed. 

“George,” said Scott, as the three boys started 
toward the dining room, “I want to warn you of 
one thing. These friends of mine never give very 
large tips — ” 

“You’se mistaken, suh!” interrupted George, 
quickly. “They is both very generous gen’le- 
men, suh. They has already ’membered me, 
suh.” 

Ignoring the crestfallen appearance of his 
friends, Scott laughed as he said, “I never knew 
them to give as much as a dollar.” 

“They sho’ly did this time, suh,” declared 
George, loyally. “That is just what the ’mem- 
brance of each gen’leman was. They was sho’ly 
good, suh.” 

“George, do you see that bill?” demanded 
Scott, as he thrust his hand into his pocket and 


THE “MONITOR” AND “ M ERR I MAC ” 103 


drew forth a two-dollar bill which he dis- 
played. 

“Yaas, suh. Yaas, suh. I sho’ly sees it,” 
declared George, his mouth spreading and re- 
vealing his glistening teeth. 

“That money isn’t mine, George.” The ex- 
pression of the face of the colored boy quickly 
changed, and then changed again as Scott con- 
tinued: “No, it isn’t mine. It belongs to the 
colored boy who will tell me what each of those 
young gentlemen here gave you a dollar for. 
Do you hear that, George?” 

“Yaas, suh. I suhtainly does hear yo’.” 
George’s eyes were glistening, and it was plain 
that a struggle of some kind was taking place 
in his mind. 

“George, did you promise these gentlemen 
not to tell what they told you?” 

“No-o, suh,” responded the colored boy, slowly. 
It was manifest that avarice was likely to gain 
the victory. 

“George, did you ever hear of felonious, unpre- 
meditated felony compounded with unmitigated 
perjury?” 

“Yaas, suh.” 

“Is there a police court in Hampton?” 


104 FOUR BOYS IN LAND OF COTTON 


“They sho’ly is, suh,” admitted George. 

“Is there a guard-house at Fortress Monroe?” 
demanded Scott, solemnly. 

“Yaas, suh.” 

“I think I’ll go and speak to Captain Tuttle,” 
said Scott, as he turned away. 

Unmindful of the calls of Larcum and John, 
George hastened after the departing Scott and 
eagerly said, “I’ll tell yo’, suh.” 

“Tell it, then!” said Scott, sternly. 

“Those gen’lemen jes’ wanted me toe say, suh, 
that you was the one what was a bit seasick.” 

“And that they were not?” 

“Yaas, suh.” 

“George, don’t you know what the most illus- 
trious luminaries in our entire legal firmament 
have termed such diabolical tergiversations as 
that?” demanded Scott, in his most sepulchral 
tones. “Why, George, men have been drawn 
and quartered for less than that !” 

“Yaas, suh, mos’ gen’lemans gives me a quarter, 
suh, but these gen’lemans — they done give me 
two dollars.” 

“But in taking that money, George, you have 
been guilty of treason before the bar of your own 
conscience. I don’t know whether the police 
court or the guard — ” 


THE “MONITOR” AND “MERRIMAC” 105 


“I sho'ly didn't mean no harm, suh," pleaded 
George. 

“ Perhaps not. Come back with me and ac- 
knowledge your wrong in the presence of these 
fellow-conspirators of yours, and, George, this 
two-dollar bill will be yours." 

“Suhtainly, suh," assented the colored boy, 
eagerly. 

George's plight, however, when he was in the 
presence of John and Larcum was almost pitiful. 
John silently drew forth a dollar bill, which he 
temptingly displayed, but the huge Larcum 
glowered upon the perplexed colored boy, and 
glanced significantly toward the rail, as if he was 
suggesting what he was accustomed to do with those 
who did not remain true to him. Plainly, George 
was in terror of the powerful tackle, but the bills 
were too tempting to be lightly cast aside. 

At last, after Scott had twice bidden him speak, 
and George had looked appealingly from one 
member of the party to another without dis- 
covering any way out of his perplexities, he stam- 
mered, “I tell yo' the truth, gen'lemen. I done 
didn't see nobody what was seasick las' night." 

“Good boy. Go to the head," shouted John, 
as he handed George his dollar. 


106 FOUR BOYS IN LAND OF COTTON 


“ Don’t you know that a half truth is ever the 
worst of lies?” demanded Scott, sternly. 

“No, suh. Yaas, suh,” responded George, 
glibly. 

“This is bargain day in tips,” continued Scott, 
“and yours is marked down from two dollars 
to one forty-nine. Can you get this bill 
changed?” 

“Yaas, suh,” responded George, somewhat 
ruefully. 

“Well, get it changed.” 

“Yaas, suh.” 

“And, George, you may keep the change,” 
Scott added, as the three boys started once more 
toward the dining room. There the only results 
of the malady from which John and Larcum had 
suffered appeared in the well-nigh abnormal 
hunger of both. Scott had eaten his breakfast 
long before his friends, and while he waited for 
them they occasionally paused, though only for 
an instant, as they pretended to sympathize with 
him in the loss of his appetite. 

When at last the trio returned to the deck, their 
spirits were high. The sun was shining clear and 
strong, the cool breezes that fanned them, the 
cloudless sky and the sight of the low-lying shores 


THE “MONITOR” AND “M ERR I MAC” 107 


in the distance, all combined to add to the charm 
of the morning. 

“Cape Charles and Cape Henry/ 7 suggested 
Larcum. “I never expected to live to see 
the day when my eyes should actually behold 
them. I used to study them in my geog- 
raphy — ” 

“That’s the way to do it, Larc,” broke in John, 
encouragingly. “There isn’t any use in travelling 
unless a man knows something about what he is 
going to see before he really sees it.” 

“I don’t know about that,” retorted Larcum. 
“A man can learn by seeing, can’t he? This is 
the way I like to study my geography,” he added, 
as he strode about on the deck. 

“Well, I know about it if you don’t,” declared 
John. “Why, I read the other day of a man who 
‘travelled’ in Greece, and when they showed him 
the old pass of Thermopylae, he said: ‘That isn’t 
much. These rocks are no good for building.’ 
What could a man see if he didn’t know what to 
look for?” 

“Have you been reading up for this trip, Jack?” 
demanded Larcum. 

“I have.” 

“Tell us ! Tell us all you know.” 


108 FOUR BOYS IN LAND OF COTTON 


“Don’t put it that way, Larc. We’ll land in a 
couple of hours,” suggested Scott. 

‘ ' N ever you mind, ’ ’ retorted John . “ Off yonder 
is Hampton Roads, ” he explained, as he pointed 
across the waters. “Ever hear of anything that 
occurred there?” 

“Are the 'roads’ on the water?” inquired Lar- 
cum. 

“They are, and right there was the fight between 
the Monitor and the Merrimac. Oh, I’ll tell you 
about it, for I primed up on the subject, though 
every Yankee ought to know about it all, anyway. 
The fight was on March 9, 1862. You see, over 
in Norfolk, yonder, the Confederates had taken the 
Merrimac , which was there when the war broke 
out.” 

“What was the Merrimac, Jack?” inquired 
Scott. 

“A frigate. She was stanch and strong, though 
a bit old-fashioned, perhaps. The Confederates 
had been at work upon her and changed her 
into an iron-clad ram. They changed her name, 
too, to the Virginia, but somehow the old name 
Merrimac stuck to her. At the same time, up in 
New York, Captain John Ericsson — you remem- 
ber, Scott, you showed me his grave in Trinity 
churchyard.” 


THE “MONITOR” AND “MERRIMAC” 109 


“ Yes, I remember,” replied Scott. “Go ahead 
with your story.” 

“Well, John Ericsson had a little flat, low- 
decked, iron-clad vessel, with a round tower in the 
middle of the deck, and at last the government had 
accepted it and sent it off down here to Hampton 
Roads, though it hadn’t arrived when the fight 
began. You see there had been a delay, because 
most of the ‘experts’ the government sent to 
inspect the Monitor — that was the name of Cap- 
tain Ericsson’s new vessel — had said she wasn’t 
any good, and would sink if she tried to put to sea. 
Ironclads hadn’t been used yet by any of the 
nations, so no one could say how they would act. 

“Over here at Hampton Roads there were five 
of the finest ships in the United States navy, 
and when the Merrimac, on March 8, 1862, sailed 
out from Norfolk and attacked them, they couldn’t 
do a thing. They were all wooden vessels, you 
see, and then, too, the shot they fired at the Mer- 
rimac bounded from her as if they had been rubber 
balls. In a few hours the Merrimac sunk the 
Cumberland and chased all the other four into 
shallow water. It was dark, then, so the ironclad 
went back to Norfolk. Two hours after she did 
that, the Monitor arrived at Hampton Roads, and 


110 FOUR BOYS IN LAND OF COTTON 


the next morning, when the Merrimac came out 
to finish the work she had had to leave the night 
before, there was the little Monitor waiting 
for her. Few, even of the Yankees, thought the 
Monitor could do much, she was so much smaller, 
you see; but after four hours of ramming and 
firing, and neither vessel being much damaged, the 
Merrimac gave up, and steamed back into Nor- 
folk. And she never came out again.’ ’ 

“Why not?” said Scott. 

“I haven’t time to tell you about that now, for 
here we are, almost at our dock. Come on, fel- 
lows !” called John. 

For a moment the three boys paused to watch 
the strange scene before them, and then they all 
ran to secure their belongings. 


CHAPTER IX 


SOME STARTLING DISCOVERIES 

It was a busy scene upon which the young 
travellers looked when they walked over the 
gang-plank to the wharf. Friends were greeting 
their arriving friends, the porters from the hotels 
were busied with the baggage, freight was being 
noisily rolled from the hold, and what was 
especially strange to the boys was the number 
of colored men that were lounging about. Evi- 
dently the arrival of the steamer was an event not 
lightly to be overlooked, and the assembly was 
doing its utmost to welcome the coming guests. 

As the boys halted on the wharf for a moment 
to gaze at the interesting sight, Captain Tuttle 
called to them from his place on the upper deck. 
“ Don’t forget, young gentlemen,” he said with a 
laugh, “that there is still a meal to your credit 
here. Come back sometime and get it.” 

“Thank you, Captain Tuttle,” called back 
Scott. “They did pretty well at the breakfast 


112 FOUR BOYS IN LAND OF COTTON 


table this morning. I don’t believe the company 
made much by what they didn’t eat last night.” 

“‘They’? Who in the world do you suppose 
Scott means by ‘they’?” inquired John, soberly, 
of Larcum. 

“I haven’t the least idea,” responded Larcum, 
“unless he thinks he’s the whole crowd. A New 
Yorker has something of that feeling, hasn’t he ? 
He can’t even refer to himself in the singular 
number. ‘They’! ‘They’!” he added in ap- 
parent anger. 

Scott laughed, but did not reply, and giving 
their bags and the checks for their trunks to the 
porters, the boys at once proceeded toward the 
hotel where they were to stay. After they had 
gone to their rooms and made such changes in 
their apparel as they desired, they returned to the 
office of the hotel to arrange their plans for the day. 

“I say, fellows,” said John, “I want to go to the 
barber shop before we start out.” 

“Oh, don’t. If you knew how becoming your 
full beard is to your peculiar style of beauty, you 
never would be so cruel as to deprive — ” 

“I’m going to get a hair-cut,” laughed John, 
interrupting his friend. ‘ ‘ I never had a very great 
liking for long-haired men or short-haired women, 


SOME STARTLING DISCOVERIES 113 


though I have noticed several of the former since 
we came.” 

'Til go with you, Jack. I may not have a 
chance again very soon, and Scott will wait for us 
here.” 

‘ 1 Will he ? ” retorted Scott, with a smile. “ You 
just watch me.” 

The two boys at once proceeded to the barber 
shop, where they fortunately found two chairs 
empty, and at once seated themselves. 

“Yaas, suh,” said John's colored barber, as he 
adjusted the apron to the neck of the young 
Bostonian. “Yaas, suh. Shave, suh?” 

There was a snort of delight from Larcum, and 
John's face flushed slightly at the inquiry. “No, 
not to-day. I think I'll have my hair cut.” 

“Yaas, suh. Yaas, suh. How'll you have it 
cut, suh?” 

“Without any antediluvian conversation pro- 
lixity,” responded John, soberly. 

“How's that, suh?” 

“I like it best with abbreviated or totally 
eliminated personal narration.” 

“What, suh?” 

“Without any trace of superabundant or 
effervescent verbosity. Even the diluted and 


114 FOUR BOYS IN LAND OF COTTON 


diminutive, not to say attenuated, colloquy is not 
conducive to my peace of mind.” 

The colored barber stood back and gazed in 
speechless wonder at his customer. Larcum’s 
delight was so great that his huge body was 
shaking in his chair. 

“ Proceed, thou shadowed livery,” demanded 
John, sternly. “A goodly part of my cutaneous 
adornment needs to be conspicuous by its absence ; 
therefore, adjust the implements of thy tonsorial 
equipment, and at once remove the superfluity 
of abundance whereby my capital extremities 
are now adorned.” 

The barber looked back at the place where his 
“boss” was stropping a razor, and then glanced 
at the open door as if he was almost tempted to 
flee. 

“Don’t you speak the English language?” 
inquired John, simply. 

“Yaas, suh. Yaas, suh. I sho’ly does ; but — 
but — how did you say you would have your hair 
cut, suh?” 

“I’ll explain it all again; I don’t want any 
lingual apparatus used. See ? ” 

“Yaas, I think I does, suh,” replied the barber, 
scratching his woolly head in manifest confusion. 


SOME STARTLING DISCOVERIES 115 


“ Neither do I desire any contributions of an 
aesthetic or customary tonsorial prolixity of any 
sort, — anecdotal, reminiscent, prophetic, or even 
commonplace. You see that, don’t you?” 

“Ya-a-as, suh. I spect’s I does, suh,” replied 
the barber, slowly. 

“Then why don’t you go ahead?” demanded 
John, sternly, as he suddenly sat erect and glared 
savagely at the “artist.” 

“ Yaas, suh. D’rec’ly, suh,” responded the bar- 
ber, as he backed away, the whites of his eyes 
plainly visible. Approaching the “boss,” the 
puzzled colored man said, in tones which John 
could plainly hear : “ I say, boss, is that man in 
mah chair crazy, or is he jes’ a foreigner? He 
suhtainly do talk pow’ful strange.” 

Larcum’s delight could no longer be restrained, 
and pushing his “artist” aside for the moment, 
he laughed until every one in the room, except 
John, was sharing in his noisy demonstrations, 
although few apparently understood the cause. 
As for John Adams Field, Jr., he first glanced re- 
proachfully at his friend, and then calling to his 
barber, said, “Aren’t you about ready to begin?” 

Reassured by the boss, the barber at once re- 
turned and began operations. Whether or not he 


116 FOUR BOYS IN LAND OF COTTON 


had obtained a glimpse of John's meaning, he was 
silent throughout the operation, but the expression 
of gloom on his face had given place to one of 
decidedly open delight when John placed a coin 
in his hand, and then the two boys departed from 
the shop and sought their friend. 

It was agreed that they would at once go to 
the adjacent fort — Fortress Monroe — and inspect 
the grounds. The old fortress, the largest, and by 
some believed to be the strongest fortification in 
America, was begun in 1817, with the famous 
French engineer, M. Barnard, as supervisor. 
Throughout the long period of its existence, For- 
tress Monroe never had any share in an active 
engagement, although it stood within the sound 
of fierce battles that had been fought near by. 

A water moat surrounds the fortifications, after 
the manner of some of the old English forts or 
castles, and perhaps of about the same present 
value. 

Eighty acres are enclosed by the turfed ram- 
parts and barracks ; officers' quarters, official build- 
ings, chapel, storehouses, streets, lawns, and beau- 
tiful trees make up a community all its own. 

“That always seemed to me about as near to a 
farce as one could come in this day and age of 


SOME STARTLING DISCOVERIES 117 


the world,” declared John, as the boys passed a 
sentry marching back and forth, on guard. “1 
wonder what he thinks he’s doing, anyway?” 

“Oh, that’s a part of the regular drill,” ex- 
plained Larcum. 

“You don’t mean it!” retorted John. “Well, 
even if it is, I don’t see any sense in it, anyway.” 

“I do,” said Scott. “Suppose we had a war — 
we’d need some men who would know a little how 
to act, wouldn’t we?” 

“We aren’t going to have any war,” declared 
John. “War is all foolishness, anyway. That’s 
what everybody in Boston says.” 

“And of course that makes it so,” retorted Scott, 
with a laugh. 

“Everybody knows there won’t be any more 
wars,” affirmed John, somewhat warmly. “War 
belongs to barbarians.” 

“And that’s the reason why you built the 
Bunker Hill Monument ?” asked Larcum. 

“That was different,” responded John, joining 
in the laugh of his friends. 

“Well, I believe in an army,” declared Scott. 
“The best way to preserve peace is to be ready for 
war. It isn’t your giant here like Larc who is in 
danger of being robbed on the king’s highway, 


118 FOUR BOYS IN LAND OF COTTON 


it’s some puny little chap like Jack, who can’t 
fight back. He is the one that will be attacked 
every time.” 

The expression that appeared for a moment in 
the eyes of John Adams Field, Jr., belied all his 
peaceful words, but no battle occurred, for Lar- 
cum seized his friend in his bear-like grasp, and 
the young Bostonian was helpless. 

“ There’s one thing I always think of in con- 
nection with Fortress Monroe,” said Scott, as the 
boys walked on to the parade ground. 

“Good. Even Jack will agree that the old fort 
wasn’t entirely useless if it has accomplished even 
that much,” said Larcum. 

“What is it you think of, Scott ? ” inquired John. 

“It was here that Jefferson Davis was impris- 
oned.” 

“I never knew that !” exclaimed Larcum. 

“My, what terrible days those must have been ! 
Civil war is always the worst, they say,” said 
Larcum. “I wonder why that is?” 

“Good many reasons,” remarked John. “One 
is, that men of the same race naturally fight hard 
and in the same way. Two bulldogs will make a 
harder fight when they meet than any other kind.” 

“That’s it,” added Scott. “‘When Greek 


SOME STARTLING DISCOVERIES 119 


meets Greek, then comes the tug of war/ you 
know. And when it’s Saxon against Saxon — ” 

“It's worse than Greek against Greek,” broke in 
Larcum. “ Well, I'm glad, if this war had to come, 
it came before my time.” 

“Comfortable but selfish,” remarked Scott. 

“That's all right, but I haven't any appetite 
for powder myself. Just think if it had come 
later, why, we might have been fighting Lee, 
instead of looking forward to meeting him, as we 
are now.” 

“That's the way it was. But the best part is 
that it is all over now, anyway.” 

“Yes, and there's the flag for you,” declared 
Larcum, as he pointed up at the stars and stripes 
that were floating over the fort. 

‘ ‘ Come on ! We must be starting for the hotel, ' ' 
suggested John a little later. 

In the afternoon the boys visited the great 
school for negroes and Indians at Hampton. The 
bright and earnest faces of the students, the 
beauty of the grounds and buildings, the devotion 
of the teachers, to one of whom John had brought 
a letter of introduction from a friend in Boston, 
the marvellous singing of the body when all the 
students assembled in the chapel, were all alike 


120 FOUR BOYS IN LAND OF COTTON 


impressive, and when at last the day was done, 
and the young travellers started back toward 
their hotel, they were all three enthusiastic over 
the experiences they had had. 

By some mistake they had taken the wrong 
trolley cars, so that they were not taken directly 
back to their destination, and as they stood wait- 
ing on the corner of the street, John said, “Come 
on, fellows, let’s walk. Each of us will save five 
cents, too, and that’s the interest on a dollar, you 
know.” 

“There’s your thrifty New England spirit,” 
laughed Scott. 

“Laugh if you want to,” retorted John, warmly, 
“but ‘a penny saved is a penny earned.’ Have 
either of you ever figured out how much a dollar, 
put in the savings-bank by Washington, would 
amount to by this time?” 

“I can’t say that I have,” laughed Scott. 

“Oh, bother your figures!” exclaimed Larcum. 
“I have enough to do with them when I am 
home. I don’t want any of them here on my 
vacation.” 

“But it really is marvellous,” persisted John. 
“If George Washington had — ” 

“But he didn’t, Jack,” said Scott. 


SOME STARTLING DISCOVERIES 121 


“But if he had , why, his dollar would have 
amounted, at compound interest — ” 

“Oh, I’ve a better one than that,” broke in 
Larcum. “I can’t say that I’m very great on 
figures, but I saw some the other day that did 
impress one so much that I committed them to 
memory. Yes, I did,” he added, as his friends 
protested. “ I’ve got them right on the tip of my 
tongue, for I’m going to quote them to my father 
the next time he begins that old story about 
Washington’s dollar. Washington didn’t do it, 
anyway, and even if he had it wouldn’t have done 
him any good. Probably the heirs would be 
fighting over the money now.” 

“What are your figures, Larc?” inquired John. 

“If all the stogies made in Pittsburg in two 
months were rolled into one they would make a 
stogie ninety-seven million three hundred and 
forty-one thousand nine hundred and sixteen 
inches long, eighteen thousand inches thick, and 
would weigh three hundred thousand ounces, 
troy weight. The man that smoked it would have 
to have a mouth eight thousand nine hundred and 
seventy-two feet wide, measured from ear to ear, to 
get it between his teeth. If he smoked it all up 
it would make him so sick that he would have 


122 FOUR BOYS IN LAND OF COTTON 


to have nine hundred and eighteen physicians, 
thirteen hundred nurses, and four hundred and 
sixty-one helpers or attendants, and it would take 
exactly thirty-three years, three months, three 
weeks, three days, three minutes, and three 
seconds for him to get well. The smoke from that 
stogie would make a cloud two hundred and 
nineteen miles long, and it would hide the sun all 
the way from Boston to — ” 

“Hold on, Larc, that’s enough,” shouted Scott. 
“We’ll go back on the trolley.” 

As soon as they arrived at their hotel, the boys 
at once went to their rooms, but in a few moments 
Larcum, in great excitement, ran into the room 
where his two friends were and shouted, “Come 
into my room, fellows !” 

“What’s wrong?” demanded Scott, calmly. 

“Come and you’ll see for yourselves. I’m all 
broken up. Come on ! Come on !” 

His friends at once followed Larcum, and when 
they had entered his room their consternation 
was as great as his own. 


CHAPTER X 


A PERPLEXING DELAY 

“Look at that, will you, fellows ! Just look at 
that !” exclaimed Larcum, as he closed and locked 
the door, and then pointed at his trunk. 

“I don’t see anything very remarkable about 
that,” drawled John. “It’s a trunk, just an 
ordinary trunk. It’s just what all people from 
the civilized parts of our land use. What’s 
wrong with it, Larc ? ” 

“Wrong ? Wrong ? I’ll show you what’s wrong,” 
exclaimed Larcum, energetically, as he flung back 
the top and, lifting the cover of the till, revealed 
to the sight of his astonished companions a choice 
collection of hammers and saws. Lifting the till 
from its place, he disclosed a second till, in which 
were some beautiful chisels, some files, and two or 
three strange pieces of apparatus, some made of 
light and strong chains, and others with small, 
strong ropes or cords attached. 

“What’s down below that till?” inquired Scott, 

123 


124 FOUR BOYS IN LAND OF COTTON 


after a brief silence, in which the astonishment of 
Larcum’s two friends had been plainly manifest. 

“I don’t know,” replied Larcum. “ I hadn’t got 
as far as that. What I saw was too much for me. 
I’ll find out now, though,” he added quickly, as 
he hastily lifted the second till from its place and 
set it on the floor beside its companion. 

His surprise was no greater than that of the 
other boys when it was seen that the lower part 
of the trunk was filled with articles of wearing 
apparel. There was an evening suit and also a 
suit of “ corduroys.” There was an opera hat 
and a wide-brimmed hat such as is worn by the 
men on the plains. Heavy shoes and fight 
“ pumps” were carefully packed side by side, and, 
as the various belongings were inspected by the 
excited boys, there was scarcely a word spoken 
before the task had been completed. 

“Well, what do you make of it, Larc?” de- 
manded John, at last. 

“I can’t make anything of it,” replied Larcum, 
disconsolately. 

“You’re sure it isn’t your trunk, are you?” 
inquired Scott. 

Larcum gave a look of scorn at the inquirer, 
and then said sharply, “Do you think I’d pack 






































“ I can’t make anything of it,” replied Larcum, 
disconsolately. — Page 124. 


A PERPLEXING DELAY 


125 


up a lot of old saws and files and hammers to 
take on a trip South, especially in the summer 
time?” 

“No-o-o,” murmured Scott. “It isn’t just 
what one would be looking for, that’s a fact. 
But honestly, Larc, what did you bring that 
outfit for?” 

“I didn’t bring it !” retorted Larcum, warmly. 

“Well, tell us what it is doing in your trunk, 
then,” suggested John. 

“It isn’t my trunk,” said Larcum, dejectedly. 

“Isn’t your trunk!” exclaimed Scott. “Why, 
my friend, you must be mistaken. It has every 
appearance of being the same old affair which my 
grandfather declares your great-grandfather used 
to use — ” 

“My trunk is a good, new sole leather — ’’began 
Larcum. 

“So is this, Larc,” broke in Scott. 

“ Yes ; but my trunk had my initials on the end 
of it.” 

Larcum’s friends soberly inspected the end of 
the trunk, but the initials of their companion 
were not to be found. 

“What did you take them off for, Larc?” 
inquired John, soberly. 


126 FOUR BOYS IN LAND OF COTTON 


“ I didn’t take them off/’ protested Larcum. 

“I’m afraid that won’t do, Larc,” said Scott, 
shaking his head solemnly. 

“AVhat won’t do? That trunk? You don’t 
suppose I got you two fellows in my room just to 
tell me that, do you?” demanded Larcum. 

“I’m not referring to your trunk. Larc, did 
you pay your bill at the cashier’s office when you 
registered?” said Scott. 

“Pay my bill? What are you talking about? 
Of course I don’t pay any bills before I’ve had 
what I came for.” 

“No, that is true, ordinarily,” admitted Scott; 
“but when a man takes a room as you did, and his 
trunk is filled with such implements and disguises 
as you have, and then, worst of all, he has two 
or three fire-escapes hidden in his trunk — ” 

“Fire-escapes?” interrupted Larcum. “I 
don’t know what you mean.” 

“Why, those things with the long ropes at- 
tached, ” responded Scott, pointing at the coils of 
rope on the floor. 

“Are these ‘fire-escapes’?” inquired Larcum, 
quickly, as he began to inspect the curious articles 
to which his friend had referred. 

_ “They certainly are,” said Scott, “and what is 


A PERPLEXING DELAY 


127 


more, when a gentleman takes a room in a hotel, 
and his trunk is fitted out with a complete set 
of burglar tools and disguises, to say nothing of 
having two or three fire-escapes along in case of 
accident, why, it’s the rule for the clerk to ask for 
payment in advance. That’s why I inquired, 
Larc.” 

“ Burglars! A burglar’s kit!” exclaimed Lar- 
cum, aghast. “Do you mean to say that you think 
this outfit belongs to a man like that?” 

“I most certainly do,” responded Scott. “Iam 
sorry — ” 

“Never mind your tears, Scott,” protested 
Larcum. “What I want to know, is how I’m 
going to get my own trunk.” 

“Tell us about it, Larc. Own up and give up 
the whole story,” suggested John. “‘ An honest 
confession is good for the soul,’ you know.” 

“There isn’t any confession about it. When I 
left the train in New York I went with the porter 
to look after my own baggage.” 

“All alone, Larc?” inquired Scott. 

“I think so. No, let me see,” he added quickly. 
“There was another man, that’s so, though I 
had almost forgotten all about it. But there was, 
and the porter took both our checks. I pointed 


128 FOUR BOYS IN LAND OF COTTON 


out my trunk and gave the porter my ticket, 
too, and he arranged for me to have the trunk 
sent down to the pier, and he checked the .trunk, 
too.” 

“What about this other man?” inquired Scott. 
“Did he have his trunk sent on? Did he get a 
check, too?” 

“Yes, I think he did.” 

“Did you hear him say where he was going?” 

“No.” 

“Could you tell him if you should see him 
again?” 

“I don’t know. Yes, I think I could. I’m 
sure he was a young man, and wore a black 
mustache.” 

“Did he look like a burglar?” 

“I didn’t think of it at the time.” 

“Quite naturally. You were so excited at 
being in a real city, and were so anxious to get 
where your friends could protect you, that you 
didn’t really notice much that was going on. 
An easy mark!” murmured Scott, shaking his 
head dubiously. 

“Never mind all that,” said Larcum, impa- 
tiently. ‘ 1 The question is how I’m to get back my 
own trunk.” 


A PERPLEXING DELAY 


129 


“And you say your key fitted this lock per- 
fectly?” 

“Not perfectly. It didn’t work very well, and 
I wondered what the trouble was ; but I managed 
to unlock it.” 

“Come on,” suggested John ; “we’ll go down and 
talk to the clerk.” 

“I won’t let either of you go with me unless 
you’ll give me your word that you won’t say any- 
thing.” 

“I’ll agree,” responded Scott. “It’ll be hard 
for John, though.” 

John laughed, and readily gave his promise, and 
the three boys at once sought the office. There 
Larcum explained the predicament in which he 
found himself, and after a brief conversation the 
clerk agreed to telegraph to a half-dozen places 
and try to trace the missing baggage. He ex- 
plained that several days might be required before 
the search was rewarded, but as he appeared to be 
confident that the missing piece of baggage would 
be found, the hearts of Larcum and his friends were 
somewhat lighter when they departed from the 
office. 

The parade at Fortress Monroe was to be 
witnessed before dinner, and the boys at once 


130 FOUR BOYS IN LAND OF COTTON 


sought the grounds, where already a large crowd 
had assembled, as it usually did. Interesting 
as the spectacle was, it was evident that Larcum 
was too seriously troubled over the loss of his 
trunk to share largely in the pleasure of the 
spectacle, which appealed strongly to his com- 
panions. Indeed, he was unusually silent through- 
out the evening after they returned to the hotel ; 
and even when the boys talked over the change in 
their plans which the delay at Old Point Comfort 
demanded, Larcum still took but little interest 
in what was suggested. When it was agreed that 
they should go to Newport News on the following 
morning, and from that city should take a trip up 
the James River as far as Jamestown and cross 
the country to Williamsburg, he had assented, 
though with but slight apparent eagerness. 

It was a perfect summer morning when the 
three friends started for Newport News, and the 
short ride in itself was enjoyable, so different was 
the region through which they were passing from 
that with which anyone of them had been familiar. 
The whitewashed cabins of the negroes, the 
method of ploughing the fields, the general air of 
peace, the absence of the din and roar and strife 
of the great city, all were alike impressive, and even 


A PERPLEXING DELAY 


131 


Larcum for a time appeared to forget his mis- 
fortune and to enter into the spirit of the day and 
occasion. 

It was still early when they arrived at their 
destination, and after they had secured rooms at a 
hotel, where they left the few belongings they had 
brought with them, they at once set forth for the 
great shipyards, the largest on the entire American 
continent. A letter of introduction provided the 
means of entrance, and a colored man was at once 
assigned to them to conduct them about the 
premises. 

The noise of the huge hammers, the blasts from 
the great furnaces, the immense cranes that lifted 
the masses of steel as if they had been burdens of 
feathers, and easily swung them into place, were 
all intensely interesting to the young travellers. 
Scott declared that the most impressive of all the 
sights to him was the apparent ease with which 
the holes were cut. in great plates of cast steel. 
The power behind it all was thrilling. Then, too, 
the inspection of the great dry-dock and the 
interest with which they watched the laborers 
on a partly completed battleship, were also impres- 
sive, and John again and again called the attention 
of his companions to the possibilities of conflict 


132 FOUR BOYS IN LAND OF COTTON 

that awaited the huge fighting machine over 
whose decks they were walking. Larcum, far 
more practical in his ideas than was his friend 
from Boston, made many inquiries as to the 
thickness of the steel plates, and talked learnedly 
of “ conning towers” and draught and beam and 
displacement. It was a new phase of their friend’s 
tastes, and both John and Scott, quicker far than 
he in their ability to master their lessons from 
books, were both more impressed by his under- 
standing than either openly acknowledged. 

It was late In the afternoon when the boys 
returned to their hotel, and even luncheon had 
been forgotten in the interest which their visit to 
the shipyard had aroused. 

“HI tell you one thing, fellows,” said Larcum, 
when at last the boys were seated in the dining 
room, and we may be sure they were among the 
first to enter. 

“Wait till we’ve given our order, Larc,” said 
Scott, as he eagerly began to scan the menu. 

“No, don’t wait, Larc,” protested John. “We 
must hear it. We don’t want to lose our ap- 
petites — ” 

“What I mean is just this,” declared Larcum, 
soberly. “You two fellows were most impressed 


A PERPLEXING DELAY 133 

by seeing those six thousand men at work in that 
shipyard.” 

“Do you refer to the numbers, Larc, or to the 
fact that so many were actually at work ?” in- 
quired Scott, lazily. 

“What I mean is this: you boys have had] a 
great deal to say about such an army of men being 
at work in that shipyard, and six thousand is 
a big crowd, as every one knows. But I have been 
thinking of the man at the head of it all, and what 
it means for him to find work for all those men, 
and how he has to keep going to avoid trouble. 
I tell you he’s the man I’m thinking of, and yet 
probably every man that is at work there thinks 
‘the boss’ ought to do better by him than he 
does. That’s the way it is with my father, any- 
way. He says he feels almost discouraged some- 
times, when, after he has kept men at work that 
he’d be glad to be rid of — ” 

“What does he keep them for, if he doesn’t 
want them?” demanded Scott. “I wouldn’t.” 

“Yes, you would. They may have families, and 
then my father is a tender-hearted man, in spite of 
what some think of him, and I think I ought to 
know. He says he doesn’t want to turn them 
adrift, for there’s only one direction to drift in, and 


134 FOUR BOYS IN LAND OF COTTON 


that is down-stream. But it hurts when these very 
men, after all he does for them, are often the first 
to make trouble.” 

“I never thought of that — at least in just that 
way,” said John, thoughtfully. “He’s really a 
public benefactor, isn’t he?” 

“He tries to be.” 

“He is. He’s really doing just as much good 
as the man who gave a site to an asylum for the 
blind.” 

Silence followed, but the boys apparently were 
not depressed, for they were all three actively 
engaged. When John at last spoke, his two 
friends were instantly aroused, and in a moment 
were apparently unmindful even of their engross- 
ing occupation. 


CHAPTER XI 


ANOTHER FAILURE 

“Fve been thinking,” began John, thoughtfully. 

“Pray don’t let us disturb you, Jack, in the 
novel experience,” suggested Scott. 

“I’ve been thinking,” resumed John, ignoring his 
friend’s interruption, “that, as we’ll have to wait 
here for two or three days, anyway, for Larc to 
exchange his kit of burglar’s tools for his own 
modest possessions, we might just as well make 
the most of the chance.” 

“We’ll have to, whether we want to or not,” 
remarked Larcum, gloomily. 

“Not so fast, my friend,” retorted John. “ You 
may have to wait, but Scott and I might go on 
and meet Lee, and then you could overtake us, 
you know, after you have come into your own 
again. But,” he hastily added, “we’ll be generous. 
We can’t tear ourselves away from your company, 
and as long as we are to wait with you we might 
just as well get all we can out of it. I’ve been 

135 


136 FOUR BOYS IN LAND OF COTTON 


looking up matters, and I find that we can take a 
boat up the James River and land at Jamestown. 
Then we can arrange to have a drive across the 
country to Williamsburg, and if we like, we can 
take a little more time and go out to Yorktown. 
We can come back here by train and then go back 
to Old Point Comfort, and probably, by that time, 
we’ll learn something about Larc’s burglar — 
that is, if Larc is absolutely certain that there 
was a mistake in the trunks.” 

“I don’t believe any burglars will lay claim to 
those tools,” said Scott, “but as we’ll have to 
stay here for a time, I agree to Jack’s suggestion. 
There may be a few old tombstones and things 
around here, and if it will give Jack any pleasure 
to examine them, why, I’ll be generous, and give 
up my own wishes, so that you two will never 
be able to say that I stood in your way. Oh, 
you needn’t thank me,” he added hastily, as his 
two friends began to revile him. “It’s my 
nature to be good, and I can’t help it any more 
than you two fellows could help being born white 
instead of black. I really don’t deserve any 
credit for it.” 

Ignoring Scott’s modest declarations, John said, 
“This will really make a fine trip, fellows. I’m 


ANOTHER FAILURE 


137 


glad, as far as I’m concerned, that Larc’s burglar 
made a mistake in the trunks. We’re just so 
much better off.” 

On the following morning the three young 
travellers, on board the steamer Pocahontas , were 
sailing up the James. Larcum’s loss and even 
Scott’s “generosity” were alike ignored in the 
enthusiasm of the voyage. To be sailing up the 
river over which nearly three hundred years 
before the early settlers from Old England had 
come, was in itself an inspiration, and stories of 
the hardships, the adventures with the Indians 
and later with the pirates, the coming of a ship- 
load of women who were sold at auction to the 
bidders in the colonies that had homes but no 
wives, the events in the War of Independence that 
had occurred in the region, and the later events 
of the great Civil War, were all gone over, and as 
the steamer followed the winding channel, now 
near the shore and then again farther out in the 
stream, — all these were but parts of the interest 
of the three boys. 

“I never could get the real lines of the Civil 
War straight in my mind,” said Larcum. “I 
know about the Revolution and I’m sure of a 
few facts in the war of 1812, but when it comes to 


138 FOUR BOYS IN LAND OF COTTON 


the Civil War I’m all confused. Who was it that 
was down here, then, anyway ?” 

‘Til tell you,” began John quickly. “I was 
reading it up before we started, for I wanted to 
find out what to look for as well as what to see. 
When McClellan — ” 

“Oh, don’t give it to us now, Jack,” pro- 
tested Scott. “Just save it all up for a rainy 
day, when we can’t get out. Of course I’m 
interested, and every one of us ought to know the 
history of the greatest civil war that was ever 
fought, but this sky and air are too good to have 
anything else come in. I don’t want to be in- 
terrupted by hearing about what has been. What 
is, is good enough for me.” 

“There, Jack! Now will you be good?” 
laughed Larcum. 

“I didn’t suggest giving any story,” retorted 
John. “I know it, but you two fellows don’t, so 
I don’t see that I have anything to be sorry for.” 

“Oh, we want it. But just now we want to 
see. We can hear any time,” explained Scott. 
“I’m interested more and more every time we 
stop. If there were only a few old gravestones 
along the bank, even Jack would be happy, too, 
I ‘fawncy.’” 


ANOTHER FAILURE 


139 


“I'm happy/’ said John, as he moved toward 
the bow. The steamer was about to make 
another of its numerous landings. A long, low 
board walk had been built, extending from the 
low shores to the little dock, and a crowd of 
negro boys had assembled to watch the landing 
and assist in placing on board the steamer the 
stores of produce that were piled high on the 
landing-place. 

“Do you know, I sometimes wish I was a black 
man,” said Scott, when the Pocahontas , after 
receiving the addition to her cargo, resumed her 
voyage up the James and left the laughing, 
whistling, singing, noisy crowd of young negroes 
behind. “Oh, you needn’t laugh. I mean 
it!” he added, as his friends laughed. 

“You aren’t much like the colored fellow in our 
class, Scott,” suggested Jack. “I heard him say 
one time that he’d be willing to be skinned alive 
if he could change his color.” 

“What I mean is that they’re the happiest 
crowd I ever saw. Nothing seems to worry 
them, not even the mid-year exams,” said 
John. 

“That’s the worst of it. They don’t care, and 
they don’t care that they don’t care. When they 


140 FOUR BOYS IN LAND OF COTTON 


get really hungry for something better, then 
there’s hope,” responded Scott. 

“What Jack said made me think of a letter I 
had from Lee the other day,” said Larcum. “Lee 
wrote that he took home with him from college 
a new mandolin, and that was something the 
darkies had never seen before. Lee took his 
mandolin the first night he was at home and went 
out to one of the cabins. It wasn’t long before 
there was a crowd of the colored fellows there, 
listening to the music of the new kind of banjo. 
There was a row of shining eyes all around him, 
Lee said, and finally two fellows went and brought 
their banjoes. Lee said one of them — a tremen- 
dous chap, sat down on the ground in front of him 
and began to pick at his banjo, trying to follow 
Lee on his mandolin. Every moment the negro 
became more and more excited: his eyes were 
rolling, and he was swinging back and forth with 
his whole body, keeping time to the music. 
At last he became so excited that he couldn’t 
stand it any longer, and swinging his banjo he 
jumped to his feet, and looking straight into Lee’s 
eyes he yelled so that a man a quarter of a mile 
away might have heard him, ‘ Golly, but I wish 
you were a nigger !’” 


ANOTHER FAILURE 141 

“Lee felt complimented, didn’t he?” inquired 
Scott. 

“He didn’t say,” replied Larcum. “Probably 
he did, for it was the best wish the fellow could 
give him. When you said what you did, Scott, 
it made me think of it.” 

“Some of them seem to be working up pretty 
well,” said Scott, thoughtfully; “but I don’t 
suppose very much can be done for them as 
long as they are perfectly satisfied with what 
they have and are.” 

“Mean satisfied, or contented, Scott?” in- 
quired John. 

“What’s the difference?” 

“There is a big difference,” retorted John. 
“You see, every man ought to be contented, but no 
one ought to be satisfied. To be satisfied, one — ” 

“You Bostonians draw it too fine for me,” 
broke in Larcum. “I’m deeply excited in your 
sermon, Jack, but we’re coming into Jamestown 
now, so you’ll have to put it off till you give us 
your lecture on the Peninsular Campaign.” 

“That Jamestown?” demanded Scott, in sur- 
prise. “Why, there isn’t any place there at 
all ! You’re mistaken.” 

“What were you looking for? A city?” re- 


142 FOUR BOYS IN LAND OF COTTON 


torted Larcum, with a laugh. “ There’s a big 
house off there to the right, anyway.” 

“Yes; but it’s almost the only house in sight.” 

“Well, the officer man told me this was James- 
town,” retorted Larcum, “and the ship’s going to 
make a landing, anyway. Come on; we don’t 
want to be left !” 

The steamer was nearing the little dock now, 
and in response to the eager inquiries of the boys 
they learned that this was indeed the Jamestown 
landing, but when they departed from the boat 
they discovered that they were the only passengers 
to be landed. Not another man was to be seen 
anywhere, and as the Pocahontas resumed her way 
up the river, the expression on the faces of John 
and Scott caused their companion to laugh loudly. 

“Where’ll we get anything to eat?” demanded 
Scott, seriously. 

“I’ve brought enough to last us till we’re in 
Williamsburg,” laughed Larcum. “I didn’t want 
to have Scott waste away right before my eyes.” 

“How are we to get to Williamsburg, I’d like 
to know?” said Scott. 

“I’ve ordered a team.” 

“It isn’t here.” 

“It will be, pretty soon. An hour or two down 


ANOTHER FAILURE 


143 


here doesn’t count, and people have something else 
to think about besides being exactly on time. 
I have found in my business career — at six per — 
that already I have lost a small fortune, if time 
is money by being on time. The other fellow 
usually isn’t there, and I have to wait for him. 
Time is money — six per — and when he makes 
me lose time he is really taking my money. 
See?” 

“ What’s that off there to the left?” inquired 
Scott, as the three boys gained the land. 

“That, my friend, is all that remains of the old 
church,” replied Larcum. 

“How do you know it is?” demanded John. 

“Oh, I know more than I may look as if I did. 
I asked the captain of the Pocahontas, and he 
told me,” retorted Larcum. “And he said, too, 
that that house off there,” and Larcum stopped 
and pointed at the one house in the distance, “is 
where the girl lived that Washington wanted to 
marry.” 

“Martha?” 

“No.” 

“Mary Philippse?” 

“No.” 

“Was George Washington a Mormon? How 


144 FOUR BOYS IN LAND OF COTTON 


many girls did he want to marry ?” demanded 
Scott. 

“Only one. But there were several he asked, 
so it is said, — of course one after the other.” 

“Why didn’t she marry him, then ? ” inquired 
John. “I should think she would have felt hon- 
ored. She ought to, anyway, to have the father 
of his country ask her.” 

“Probably she didn’t believe he’d ever arrive 
at any such dignity,” laughed Larcum. “You 
know one or two said ‘no’ to Abraham Lincoln. 
Very likely he was as awkward as George W., 
and even more bashful. I wonder what those 
girls thought about it afterward. They may 
have married some good-looking, empty-headed 
chaps who could dance and go fox-hunting, and 
all that — ” 

“What you say, Larc, encourages me very much 
concerning our friend Jack, here,” said Scott, 
demurely. “Who knows but there still may be 
hope — ” 

“What made you wait so long before you said 
all that ? ” interrupted John. “I have been wait- 
ing for hours for you to enunciate that strikingly 
suggestive and startlingly original paraphrase 
of transcendental incompetence which never 


ANOTHER FAILURE 145 

vitally elucidates any evolutions of its own cere- 
bral — ” 

“Don’t, Jack,” pleaded Scott. “I won’t do it 
again. I can’t bear to have you call me those 
names. Anything else might do — but that, 
that , of all things ! I can’t bear it.” 

“Be good, then!” retorted John, in mock 
seriousness, as the boys stopped in front of the 
ivy-covered tower of brick — all that now re- 
mained of the old building. 

“That captain-man told me that this ivy was 
brought from Stratford. That’s where Shake- 
speare used to live, you know,” said Larcum. 

His two friends looked reproachfully, almost 
sorrowfully, at Larcum, but neither ventured to 
speak. 

“It is interesting, isn’t it?” suggested Scott at 
last. 

“It certainly is,” responded John. “This is 
really historic ground. Here Captain John Smith 
and his fellows must have stood. And the old 
river is just the same,” he added, as he turned and 
gazed out over the winding stream. “I am glad I 
came. Do you know what comes into my mind 
as I look at these crumbling ruins all covered with 
this ivy?” 


146 FOUR BOYS IN LAND OF GOT TON 


“What?” inquired Scott, 

“Why, these lines: — 

“ 1 Oh, a dainty plant is the ivy green 
That creepeth o'er ruins old ! 

Of right choice food are his meals, I ween 
In his cell so lone and cold, 

Creeping where no life is seen. 

A rare old plant is the ivy green.’ ” 

“Is that original, Jack?” inquired Larcum. 

The spell was broken as John replied : “No; I'm 
sorry to say I didn’t compose those lines. I wish I 
had. They’re from Pickwick Papers, written by 
Charles Dickens, the greatest novelist the world has 
ever seen.” 

“But where is your team, Larc?” demanded 
Scott. “I don’t see any signs of it.” 

“That’s so. It ought to be here — but it isn’t.” 

“How far is it to Williamsburg?” inquired 
John. 

“Seven miles,” answered Larcum. 

“Let’s walk,” suggested John, quickly. 

His companions hesitated a moment, and then, 
hastily agreeing to the suggestion, at once set 
forth, not knowing the way, nor realizing the 
trouble that awaited them. 


CHAPTER XII 


TRAMPS 

The sudden impulse which had seized the three 
young travellers to walk to Williamsburg was 
quickly acted upon, and despite their lack of 
knowledge of the proper direction they were soon 
walking in the direction in which they fancied the 
famous old town was situated. The day was 
warm, but the heat was not oppressive, and with 
their travelling-bags slung over their shoulders 
they walked briskly onward. The country was 
so unlike any they had ever seen before that their 
interest in what they saw did not flag. Some- 
times, when the road led through dense woods, 
they perceived humble little cabins half concealed 
among the trees, and the unexpected appearance 
of the young men would be a signal for a crowd of 
little black-faced pickaninnies, with shining eyes 
and glistening teeth, to rush forth and stare at the 
unusual sight. Then, at other times, the road led 
across fields that apparently belonged to an 
147 


148 FOUR BOYS IN LAND OF COTTON 


estate or plantation, and the pretentious house, 
approached by a lane that ran far back from the 
simple roadway, indicated where the proprietors 
lived. In these places the road would be barred 
by gates which at irregular intervals checked their 
progress. Evidently, it was the custom of the 
people who traversed the region to open these 
gates and then close them after the passage had 
been made. 

“They must think everybody is honest down 
here,” suggested Scott. “There is plenty of 
stuff to be carried off, and if a man forgot to close 
the gate behind him, the cattle, too, might stray.” 

“It’s better to believe everybody is honest than 
to suspect every one of being a rascal until he 
proves he isn’t — the way I’ve heard some people 
say it is in — in some places in this country,” 
suggested John, demurely, as he hastily corrected 
himself. 

“Oh, New York isn’t so bad, if you mean that,” 
laughed Scott. “There really isn’t a safer place 
in the world. Of course, when some people come 
in from — from Boston or the back country, they 
are so unsophisticated that they bring a sign along 
with them — 'pity the rustic, and don’t pick his 
pocket.’ That really is an invitation to every 


TRAMPS 


149 


sharper to 'do him good/ But for a man who 
is even a little accustomed to the ways of the 
world, why, New York is as safe as — as James- 
town, where you can't find a soul if you use a 
microscope." 

"Suppose you'd do any better with a micro- 
scope in our town, Scott?" said John, dryly. 

"Oh, quit your quarrelling over your towns," 
said Larcum. "They're both all right enough — 
for the effete East. What you want now is to 
see the Old Dominion — Just look at that, will 
you !" he suddenly demanded, as he pointed at a 
strange sight that could be seen approaching. 

An old and frequently mended (at least some 
attempts at mending had evidently been made) 
wagon, drawn by a mule and an ox yoked to- 
gether, and driven by a white-headed old negro, 
who was perched upon a board that had been 
thrown across the wagon-box, was only a little 
behind them. On the seat beside the driver was 
also a colored woman, who might have been the 
daughter of the aged driver. In the wagon were 
some bags, one of which had become untied and 
revealed the corn which it contained, some chick- 
ens, with feet tied together, and a small, brownish- 
hued pig, which at frequent intervals manifested 


150 FOUR BOYS IN LAND OF COTTON 


its rebellion by sending forth a squeal that could 
be heard far away. 

It was manifest that the interest of the boys 
in the approaching vehicle was returned by the 
quaint old driver and his companion, who were 
staring at the strangers as if they were trying to 
account in some way for their presence on the 
sandy road. 

“Good afternoon, uncle,” called John, after the 
boys had halted to await the coming of the strange 
team. 

“Good ev’nin’, suh,” responded the old negro, 
his confidence apparently restored, and a broad 
grin appearing on his face. 

“Is this the road to Williamsburg ?” inquired 
John. 

“Ah specs it is, suh. Some folks done been 
usin' it, suh, a right smart time. Mos' always 
Ah uses it myself, suh.” 

“Then there is another road besides this, is 
there?” 

“Yaas, suh. Yaas, suh.” 

“Which is the better one? Which is the 
shorter?” 

“Ah can't jes' say, suh. Dey is both right 
good, suh.” 


TRAMPS 


151 


“How far is Williamsburg from here?” 

“Ah reckon, suh, its mos’ too far fer a man 
to walk, suh.” 

“Is it five miles?” 

“Ah reckon it is, suh.” 

“Is it ten miles?” 

“It mought be, suh.” 

“Are you going there?” 

“Ah specs Ah am, suh.” 

“To-day?” 

“Yaas, suh. Yaas, suh.” 

“What time next week do you come back?” 
inquired Scott, soberly. 

“Ah comes back, suh, when Ah done sell dat 
pig,” replied the colored man, as he pointed at his 
possessions in the box. 

“After you shall have profitably exchanged 
that porcine property of yours for the true and 
lawful medium of exchange of the land in which 
we live, your peregrinations will then cease, and 
you plan to return to your rural domicile amongst 
these spreading chestnut trees of which the famous 
bard of Cambridge has so delightfully sung, do 
you?” demanded John, solemnly. 

“No, suh, no, suh,” said the negro, quickly. 
“Ah don’ spec ter do none o’ dem things, suh. 


152 FOUR BOYS IN LAND OF COTTON 


Ah is jes’ gwine sell dat pig. Dat’s all Ah’se 
gwine tu do, suh, jes’ sure’s yo’ born, suh.” 

The manifest alarm of the old negro was not to 
be concealed, and John said quickly: “ That’s all 
right, uncle. I hope you’ll get a good price for it.” 

“Ah sho’ly will, suh,” said the old colored 
man, delightedly. “He’s done eat all de beech- 
nuts — ” 

“Yes, I have heard of the ‘ beechnut hams’ of 
Virginia,” said John. “It makes me hungry 
just to think of it. I’ll tell you what I’ll do, 
uncle. If you will sell us two slices of ham, I’ll 
give you a half dollar. You’ll have all the rest of 
the pig left. There’ll be the squeal and the — ” 

“All right, suh,” broke in the negro, eagerly, 
as he instantly drew forth his knife. 

“Nay, desist, ‘thou shadowed livery of the 
burnished sun,’” exclaimed John, in tragic tones. 
“The purposes of my heart are changed; I no 
longer crave the fragrant bacon. All I want is 
the squeal. I’ll give you a dollar for that, and you 
may keep the ham for the prodigal among your 
progeny. You have a prodigal at your home, 
haven’t you, uncle?” 

“No, suh. No, suh. Leastwise, Ah don’ 
know — ” 


TRAMPS 


153 


“Well, you may take this, anyway, uncle,” said 
John, as he handed the delighted old man a coin. 
“I’d really like to have you tell us, though, how we 
are to get into the other road for Williamsburg, if 
we should want to take it. Is it more picturesque 
than this?” 

“No, suh. Hit’s mos’ly sand, suh. Jes’ ordi- 
nary sand, dat’s all.” 

“Thank you,” responded John, demurely. 
“Now, if you will kindly tell us how and where 
we can find it, I shall be greatly obliged.” 

“Hit’s jes’ ober yonder, suh. Yo’ cawnt lose de 
way, suh. All you has ter do, suh, is ter go 
quite some way down dis yere road, den when yo’ 
crosses de nex’ fiel’, you’ll fin’ de place where 
Cap’n Blake done raise his turnips las’ year — no, 
let me see — year afore las’. You jes’ keep right 
on, an’ when yer comes to de ole corner where de 
pump use ter be, jes’ keep right on some mo’, 
an’ pretty quick yo’ll see de straight road. An’ 
dat’ll take yo’ straight ter Williamsburg.” 

“Thank you,” responded John, gravely. “Your 
lucid illumination is so vivid that even a way- 
faring man could not fail to comprehend its 
intricacies. I thank you from the depth of my 
soul, and have but one more request. If you 


154 FOUR BOYS IN LAND OF COTTON 


arrive at your predetermined destination before 
we have traversed the alluvial territory that 
intervenes, kindly inform them that we also have 
it in our hearts to proceed with the aforemen- 
tioned determination, and are hopeful of arriving 
at our destination ere before long. Will you 
please tell them, uncle V* 

“Ah sho’ly will, suh.” 

“Thank you. Thank you. Then we will no 
longer compel you to restrain your fractious and 
impatient steeds. Au revoir , uncle.” 

“Yaas, suh. Yaas, suh. Suhtainly, suh, suh- 
tainly,” responded the old colored man, as he once 
more picked up his rope lines, and the creaking 
wagon began to move slowly. For a time the 
boys stood and watched the departing party, and 
the occupants of the seat frequently turned to 
glance back at the young travellers and then 
they apparently conversed in some excitement, 
which greatly delighted the boys. 

“Isn’t that just like Jack?” declared Scott, as 
the boys resumed their journey. “If it is pos- 
sible to use two words instead of one, or a long 
word instead of a short one, he’s sure to do it. 
Just think of all the breath he wasted trying to say 
what a New York man would have expressed in 


TRAMPS 


155 


the forceful words : ‘ If you get there before we do, 
just tell them we are coming.’” 

“The ability to use language correctly is the 
distinguishing mark between the educated and 
the uneducated,” retorted John, dryly. 

“Yes, that is so. But such language !” laughed 
Scott. 

“Come on, boys. Let’s take the other road the 
old colored man told us about. It will give 
us a chance to see something different anyway,” 
suggested Larcum, who took slight interest in the 
“fine-spun discussions” of his friends, as he 
termed them. 

“How’ll we find it, Larc?” laughed John. “I 
am not just sure that I shall be able to recognize 
the field where Captain Blake’s antiquated turnips 
grew.” 

“You’ll have no trouble with the old pump, 
though, Jack,” laughed Scott. “But I’m agreed. 
Anything for a change.” 

As the boys walked on, a careful outlook was 
maintained for the turnip field, but not one of 
them was able to discover it. At last, when they 
came to a branch road, despite Larcum’s protest, 
it was decided to follow it, as both John and Scott 
were convinced that it would lead to the road of 


156 FOUR BOYS IN LAND OF COTTON 


which they had heard, and would save time in 
their journey to Williamsburg. However, when 
an hour had elapsed and no signs of the road 
they were seeking appeared, it became evident to 
Larcum that his friends were as troubled as he 
himself was. 

“ We're lost, that’s all there is about it!” he 
declared crossly. “If you fellows had done what 
I told you — ” 

“There, Larc, don’t say it,” suggested Scott, 
good-naturedly. ,“I haven’t said ‘I told you so’ 
to a living soul for years.” 

“I don’t care whether you have or not. We’re 
lost now, anyway, and my opinion is that the 
best thing we can do is to put straight back. It 
can’t be more than three miles,” Larcum added 
glumly. “That will make only six miles extra 
tramping, and I’m so hot and hungry and dusty, 
I feel like a regular tramp, anyway.” 

“It’ll be dark before we even get back into that 
road again,” suggested John, “and if I am not 
greatly mistaken, it is going to rain, too.” 

However, there appeared to be no escape from 
their plight except by returning, and in spite of 
Scott’s vigorous protest they at once began to 
retrace their way. The darkness came swiftly 



“If you are going in my direction, a lift may not be 

— Page 15 7. 


AMISS 














































TRAMPS 


157 


on, and not more than half the journey had been 
completed before the rain was falling steadily. 
A deserted cabin near the road offered shelter, and 
the boys were about to seek it, when they were 
startled by the approach of a carriage drawn by 
two horses, and coming from the direction behind 
them. Their surprise was increased when the 
somewhat old-fashioned vehicle stopped beside 
them as a sharp call came from some one within 
the coach to the driver seated upon the box. In 
the dim light the boys could see the face of an old 
man, with white hair and mustache and white 
pointed beard, peering at them from the window 
of the carriage. 

“Get right in, gentlemen / 7 the old man said, 
in a voice that was soft and slightly drawling, so 
that the boys were at once aware that the occu- 
pant belonged to the region. “If you are going in 
my direction, a lift may not be amiss . 7 7 

“We 7 re all muddy , 77 explained Scott. “I 7 m 
afraid we 7 ll — 77 

“Never mind the mud, sir , 77 said the old gentle- 
man, pleasantly. “We all know what Virginia 
mud is like. Come right in . 77 

The young travellers hesitated no longer, and 
clambered into the vehicle, Larcum seating him- 


158 FOUR BOYS IN LAND OF COTTON 


self beside their host, while the other boys took 
the seat in front, so that they were facing the 
other occupants. At a word the negro coachman 
started his horses into an ambling trot, and the 
heavy coach moved slowly forward. “We lost 
our way,” explained Scott. “We started from 
Jamestown for Williamsburg on foot.” 

“Why did you do that, sir?” demanded the 
old gentleman. 

“Why, you see we’re taking a trip in this part 
of the country, and we came up the river from 
Newport News as far as Jamestown. We had 
ordered a carriage to meet us there, but it didn’t 
come, so we thought we’d walk.” 

Their host’s low laugh was exceedingly pleasing 
as he inquired, “Do you know how far you are 
from Williamsburg now?” 

“No, sir. We thought we had covered hah 
the distance, though.” 

“You are eight miles from the old town.” 
Ignoring the expression of dismay that escaped 
Scott’s lips, their fellow-traveller said: “Never 
mind that, sir. There’s something better than 
Williamsburg before you.” 


CHAPTER XIII 


FIRST FAMILIES 

“ Something better than Williamsburg ?” in- 
quired Scott, in surprise. 

“Yes, sir,” replied the old gentleman, with a 
laugh. The man’s voice was remarkably soft 
and musical, and Scott laughed in response, al- 
though he could not have explained why he did 
so. “Yes, sir,” continued the man. “I am 
going to take you to my home, and you shall 
spend the night with us. I cannot understand, 
young gentlemen, why you should wish to walk 
through this Virginia mud, anyway. Our young 
men prefer horseback riding.” 

“We’re tramps,” laughed John, “regular tramps. 
We’ve started out to see the land of cotton, 
and when the carriage we had ordered to meet 
us at Jamestown failed to appear, we were too 
good Yankees to give up, so we started on foot.” 

“It was fortunate for you that I overtook you,” 
said the old gentleman, kindly. “If you had 

159 


160 FOUR BOYS IN LAND OF COTTON 


kept on, I don’t know where you would have 
found yourselves by morning.” 

“It is an imposition for you to take us to your 
home — ” began John. 

“ ‘ Imposition ’ ? I do not quite understand 
you, sir.” 

“Why, perhaps it will not be convenient for — 
for a party of tramps to be received without any 
warning,” explained John, in some confusion. 

“No Virginia home that is worthy of the name 
is ever put to any inconvenience, sir, by the ar- 
rival of guests,” responded the old gentleman, 
with dignity. 

“But you don’t even know our names — who 
we are,” protested Scott. 

“I take it for granted that you are young 
gentlemen.” 

“Thank you, sir. We shall be glad to go home 
with you,” said John, quickly. The rain had in- 
creased by this time, and dashed against the 
windows of the coach with a force that made the 
boys appreciate their shelter. The darkness, too, 
had deepened, and as the heavy carriage lurched 
forward in the road there was silence for a time, 
broken only by the calls and exclamations of the 
colored driver to his horses. Conversation flagged ; 


FIRST FAMILIES 


161 


but when a half hour had elapsed, the boys became 
aware that they had left the road and were passing 
through a lane of some kind — doubtless, they 
thought, like many of those which they had seen 
in the afternoon leading back to some stately 
old house situated far back from the main road. 
Their conjectures proved to be correct when, after a 
few minutes had elapsed, the coach stopped in 'front 
of a large house. Dogs were barking, and there 
was a scurrying of attendants as the old gentle- 
man stepped out, and at his bidding the young 
travellers followed his example. The boys could 
see that they were on a broad piazza, and that 
stately columns supported its roof. The light 
was dim, but it was sufficient to enable the guests 
to perceive that it was provided by tallow dips. 
It was all strange, but strangely interesting, and, 
as the boys followed their host as he led the way 
within, they glanced meaningly at one another, 
and yet it was manifest that they were all in- 
terested and impressed by the new experience 
which was theirs. 

At a word from their host a colored boy at once 
conducted the young travellers to two rooms on 
the floor above, and left them, to return speedily 
with warm water and refreshment. 


162 FOUR BOYS IN LAND OF COTTON 


“This is great !” exclaimed Larcum, when the 
boys were left to themselves. “Did you ever see 
a finer-looking old man in all your life ? He looks 
as if he might have stepped down and out from 
some old painting. Even his chin whiskers have 
a look that shows he is a gentleman.” 

“ And } did you ever hear such a voice?” de- 
manded John. “It is as soft and musical as an 
organ.” 

“Mouth-organ, Jack?” inquired Larcum. 

“Yes. Call it what you want. That’s what I 
mean. It doesn’t sound as if it had been cracked 
by the winds of Lake Michigan — ” 

“Or come through his nose the way a down- 
easter twangs it,” interrupted Larcum. 

“What do you ‘fawncy’ the old gentleman 
would say if he knew he was entertaining a man 
that was travelling through the country with a 
complete outfit of burglar’s tools, Jack?” in- 
quired Scott, demurely. 

“He’d rather trust himself to him than he 
would to a chap that thinks he is the whole outfit 
just because his name is John Adams,” retorted 
Larcum, warmly. “You might ask him, if 
you want to,” he suggested. “I’d take my 
chance.” 


FIRST FAMILIES 


163 


“In the dark you might pass all right, Larc. 
The old gentleman told us that he took us for 
young gentlemen, didn't he? I wonder what 
he will say when he sees you and Scott in the 
light?" 

What “he" would say became evident when the 
three boys returned to the room below, for their 
host advanced eagerly toward them and taking each 
by the hand, presented him in turn to the white- 
haired, fragile little woman in the room whom he 
proudly declared to be “Mrs. Peyton — my wife." 
John afterward declared that she reminded him 
of a dainty piece of painted porcelain, so fine and 
delicate did she appear to be. 

Her welcome was as gracious and kind as that 
of her husband, and in a few moments all three 
boys were sure that they could not have been made 
to feel more at home in the stately old mansion 
if they had been acquaintances of long standing. 
They explained again who they were, where their 
homes were, and how it had come to pass that 
Mr. Peyton had found them on the road and had 
had compassion on them in their predicament. 

After dinner, when the entire party had seated 
themselves before the huge fireplace, on which sev- 
eral logs were burning, — for the night had become 


164 FOUR BOYS IN LAND OF COTTON 


damp and chilly with the increasing of the storm, — 
it seemed to John, who was the dreamer of them 
all, almost as if he had been carried back to a time 
that existed in the long ago. Even the faces of 
their host and his gentle wife were parts of a 
scene of which he had read, but which he never had 
expected to see. 

“I was in Boston once,” the old gentleman was 
saying. 

“ Yes, sir?” answered John. “I am hoping you 
will come again, so that I may be able to return a 
part of the kindness you have shown us.” 

“I shall never go there again. It was before 
the war when I was there, and it is too far away 
for me to think of going again, at my time of life.” 

“ Perhaps one visit was enough,” laughed 
Larcum. “I have known people who have said 
it served them that way.” 

Unaware of the note of bantering in Larcum’s 
words, Mr. Peyton said seriously: “I do not care 
for the great cities. I go to Richmond every year 
to visit my daughter, but I am glad to be back on 
the old plantation. When a place has been in 
the family for nearly three hundred years, it is 
only natural that it should seem like home.” 

“So long as that?” inquired John, interested at 
once. 


FIRST FAMILIES 


165 


“Mr. Peyton’s ancestors were among the first 
to come to the Old Dominion,” said Mrs. Peyton, 
proudly and promptly. “His is one of the first 
families of Virginia in every way.” 

“Yes; one of them was a comrade of Captain 
John Smith,” added her husband. 

“You seem to be as proud of these ‘old boys’ 
as my friend here does, in his being named after 
John Adams,” began Larcum, unaware of the 
glances of warning which both Scott and John 
gave him. “I never could quite understand why 
it is that in America we should be so proud of the 
men that first came over here. Wasn’t it Cicero 
who said to a man who was making fun of him 
because he had no family, that he was proud to 
be the first in his line, but the other man was the 
last in his?” 

There was a silence for a moment that was 
ghastly. Even in the dim fight John could see 
that the dark eyes of the gentle little woman 
beside him seemed to snap, and when he glanced 
at Mr. Peyton he was fearful of the response he 
was positive the old gentleman would make. 
What a mess Larcum had made of it ! 

To John’s surprise, Mr. Peyton’s voice did not 
betray any feeling of irritation as he said quietly : 


166 FOUR BOYS IN LAND OF COTTON 


“ There may be something in what you say, sir. 
I have often thought of it. But you will find, sir, 
in every case where a man is making a name for 
himself now, that he had some ancestors who had 
done the same before him. I believe in blood, sir. 
Blood tells. And if I had not anything else to 
boast of, I should still be proud that I carried in 
my own veins, sir, the blood of men who were at 
least — gentlemen.” 

“But were those ‘old boys’ gentlemen?” de- 
manded Larcum, who was not to be turned aside. 
“Weren’t a good many of them pirates and ad- 
venturers, and just out of jail? Were they not 
shipped over here just to get rid of them? Were 
not girls and women shipped over here by the 
load, and parcelled out at auction to the highest 
bidders for wives? That’s the way my history 
used to read, if I am not mistaken. I never could 
see why — ” 

“You are correct, sir, in a way,” began Mr. 
Peyton, “but your history was very incomplete, 
very incomplete indeed, sir, if it informed you 
that the class of which you are speaking was the 
only one that came. There were younger sons 
of the nobility, sir; there were gentlemen whom 
war or misfortune had made poor, and they came, 


FIRST FAMILIES 


167 


seeking opportunities to retrieve their fortunes. 
And many succeeded, sir. The life in the early 
days of the Old Dominion was ideal, sir. It 
had the quality of the cavalier, of birth, and of 
breeding, and yet there was all the freedom which 
a new world could add to it.” 

“Judging from the looks of the country now, 
they must all have gone back to England. It 
certainly doesn’t look very much like it now,” 
declared Larcum. His two friends looked sharply 
at him, for, tactless as the huge Larcum ordinarily 
was, it seemed as if on the present occasion he was 
outdoing himself. 

There was silence for a moment, so tense that 
John and Scott glanced fearfully at each other; 
but when their host spoke again, it was in the same 
gentle tone he had used before. “I am not sur- 
prised that the country impresses you as it does, 
but its condition is due to something which 
not one of you can really understand.” 

“Is that the war, sir?” inquired Scott, quietly. 

“Yes, sir. It is the reverse of what the old 
prophet declared when he promised that the 
wilderness should blossom as the rose. It is 
rather the place of roses turned back into a 
wilderness.” 


168 FOUR BOYS IN LAND OF COTTON 


“But the war is over,” declared Larcum, bluntly. 
“Why can’t it be done now?” 

“In the war,” said the old gentleman, softly, 
“some things were lost besides the roses.” 

“What do you mean?” demanded Larcum. 

“My own three sons, for example,” responded 
Mr. Peyton, in a low voice. “One fell in the de- 
fence of Richmond, and the other two laid down 
their lives at Gettysburg. They were stalwart, 
sterling boys, those sons of mine, and I should 
reckon were just about your ages. It may be, sir, 
that when I saw you back yonder on the cross-roads, 
that I was thinking of them.” 

When John looked up he could see that tears 
were trickling down the faded cheeks of the old 
lady, seated beside their host, but her eyes were 
bright, and there was a flash in them as she said, 
“I would give them all up again if it was neces- 
sary !” 

“There, mother,” said Mr. Peyton, soothingly, 
as he gently placed his hand upon hers. “The 
war is ended now. The boys can’t come back.” 

Again there was silence in the room, oppressive 
and painful to John and Scott, but Larcum, ap- 
parently as obtuse as ever, said, “The old feeling 
about the war is all gone, isn’t it?” 


FIRST FAMILIES 


169 


“My younger brother was with General Lee,” 
said Mrs. Peyton, quickly, “and I heard him say 
only the other day that he wouldn’t ask for any 
better fun than to be ‘ shooting Yanks’ again.” 
There was a smile on her face that belied the dire 
expression she had quoted, and the boys smiled 
in sympathy. 

“Yes, sir. I am thankful the old bitterness is 
gone — or is going,” said Mr. Peyton. “With 
some, of course, there is still some feeling, but we 
must accept the results, and do the best we can. 
And I am thankful to say that we are progressing, 
sir. The old spirit can’t be crushed, sir, and when 
you go on to Richmond you will see much to 
surprise you all. Why, there is a new building 
in that city — it is like what you call ‘ sky-scrapers ’ 
in New York, I have read — that is at the very 
least nine stories high. It is the most tremendous 
structure I ever saw reared by the hand of mortal 
man. You must not fail to see it, young gentle- 
men.” 

“We’ll be sure to look it up,” remarked Scott, 
not daring to glance at either of his companions. 
His father’s offices were on the twentieth floor of 
the building in which they were located in New 
York, and their elevation had never been especially 


170 FOUR BOYS IN LAND OF COTTON 


impressive. Only a few days before, when he and 
John had been inspecting the places of historic 
interest in that city, they had passed the founda- 
tions of a huge building which was to contain more 
than forty floors when it was completed. But 
he did not refer to the fact in the presence of his 
host, who was convinced that he was imparting 
information that might tax the credulity of his 
young guests almost beyond its due power. 

“Yes, sir; the old spirit is asserting itself once 
more,” began Mr. Peyton again, proudly. “You all 
will see much to surprise you, and that is what 
I meant when I referred to the pride one might 
have in his ancestry. Now take Captain John 
Smith, for instance. The story of his adventures 
in the wars against the Turks is romantic — ex- 
ceedingly romantic. And when he was made a 
prisoner, and then sold to an Oriental maiden, and 
she naturally fell in love with him — why, sir, 
his entire history is enough to quicken the life- 
blood of a man, sir. It stirs mine, in spite of my 
seventy-six years.” 

“John — Mr. Field, here, is the one of us, that 
knows most about history — ” suggested Scott. 

“I am pleased to hear it, sir, very much pleased 
indeed,” responded Mr. Peyton, cordially. “One 


FIRST FAMILIES 


171 


never can honor too highly the nobility of a good 
man whose name he bears. And now I have a 
question to ask which I trust may give you as 
much pleasure in answering as it does me in 
asking.” 


CHAPTER XIV 

WHERE HISTORY WAS MADE 

“From what you have told me, young gentle- 
men, I reckon that a day or two will not make 
any particular difference in your plans, will it?” 
inquired Mr. Peyton. 

“Why, no, sir, I think not,” replied Scott. 

“If that is so, then I am going to urge you to 
remain a little longer. It will afford me very great 
pleasure to drive you over to the old battle-field of 
Yorktown, and then we can go also to the famous 
old residence of Governor Sir William Berkeley. 
As you are interested in historical matters, I have 
an idea that we can spend the day agreeably, and 
perhaps profitably as well.” 

“It is very good of you to offer to do so much for 
us,” said John, quickly, “but we could not think 
of taking so much of your time.” 

“I have more ‘time/ as you call it, than I have 
of any other possession, and it will give me the 
greatest pleasure in the world to do this.” 


172 


WHERE HISTORY WAS MADE 173 


“Thank you,” replied Scott, promptly, before 
Larcum could interpose any objection, “we shall 
be very glad to go.” The matter was accordingly 
settled, and apparently very much to their host’s 
gratification. 

When the boys had retired to their rooms, 
Larcum was strong in his complaints that Mr. 
Peyton’s invitation had been accepted before he 
and John had been consulted. “Besides,” he 
added, “who wants to see Yorktown, anyway? 
There’s nothing there any more than there was 
at Jamestown.” 

“There was something there in 1781,” re- 
marked John, soberly. 

“Who cares about 1781?” retorted Larcum. 
“It’s what men are doing now that I want to see. 
I don’t care anything about the ‘old boys’ that 
fought and bled and died a good deal more than 
a hundred years ago.” 

“Look here, Larc!” said Scott, sharply. 
“You never saw such a man as this Mr. Pey- 
ton is in your town in all your life, now, did 
you?” 

“No-o-o. I don’t know that I did,” admitted 
Larcum. “It isn’t exactly the kind we grow in 
Chicago.” 


174 FOUR BOYS IN LAND OF COTTON 


“1 should say not. You couldn’t interest him 
in your pork, or — ” 

“Oh, drop that!” retorted Larcum, warmly. 
“I’ve heard that till it’s grown bald and gray.” 

“That’s all right,” laughed Scott, “but we’ve 
agreed to go, so that is settled. Besides, I want 
to go, and so does Jack. We’ll get you back to 
your burglar outfit in plenty of time. But there’s 
one thing we must insist upon, Larc.” 

“What’s that?” 

“That not one of us shall in any way refer to 
the Civil War.” 

“But I want to know about that,” protested 
Larcum. “That is a good deal more up to date 
than your old relics of the Revolution.” 

“Jack has agreed to tell us all about what was 
going on here in the Civil War, but we simply must 
not say anything about it while we are with Mr. 
Peyton. He is the finest type of the old-school 
gentleman I ever saw in all my life, and we must 
show him that we know enough to appreciate it, 
too. Maybe, if our fathers were thinking of us — 
not as we are off down here in the land of cotton, 
having a fine old time, but as having been shot — 
they might be a bit sensitive, too.” 

“But we didn’t begin the war, ’’declared Larcum, 


WHERE HISTORY WAS MADE 175 


warmly. “We didn’t want to fight, we just had 
to, to keep the country together. I don’t see why 
I should—” 

“ Never mind whether you see it or not,” in- 
terrupted Scott. “What we want to know is, if 
while we are the guests of this old gentleman, you’ll 
agree not in any way, shape, or manner, to say 
anything to hurt his feelings.” 

“Of course I won’t,” said Larcum, sharply. 
“"What do you think I am, anyway?” 

“You’re all right, Larc,” laughed Scott, “only 
out in the wild and woolly west you don’t find — ” 

“It isn’t any more wild than — than — New 
York !” broke in Larcum, hotly ; “and as for being 
woolly, why, what do you think of the story we heard 
about the ‘tremendous’ sky-scraper in Richmond ? 
I think Mr. Peyton had some wool over his eyes. 
Just think of it!” and Larcum threw back his 
head and laughed aloud. 

“Never mind that, Larc,” said Scott. “Every- 
body thinks his own town is the garden spot of the 
world. Jack, here, thinks Boston is — ” 

“I know it is,” broke in John, soberly. 

“Hear that, will you ’.’’shouted Scott, delight- 
edly. 

“Yes; and of all the provincial, conceited towns 


176 FOUR BOYS IN LAND OF COTTON 


on earth, give me New York !” said Larcum. “ You 
can’t make a New Yorker believe there is really 
anything in America that amounts to anything 
outside of Manhattan Island.” 

“New York has the best of everything/’ as- 
serted Scott, calmly. “You’ll have to own up 
that after your Chicago men have made their 
money, they all want to come to New York to live. 
Now own up, Larc, that it is — ” 

The shout of his companions caused Scott’s 
cheeks to flush, but in a moment he, too, joined in 
the laughter of his friends and said: “Well, 
fellows, wherever you go — New York, Boston, or 
Chicago — you’ll have to own up that you 
aren’t likely to run across a man who shows he’s 
a gentleman every inch of him, who would take 
the time or trouble to show three such fellows as 
we are, that hadn’t a show of a claim on him, all 
the kindness Mr. Peyton is showing us.” 

“That’s so,” acknowledged Larcum, cordially. 
“But still—” 

“Never mind the rest of it, Larc. Keep it 
till we get back to Old Point Comfort. You’ll 
agree to be good to-morrow, anyway, won’t you ?” 

“Of course I’ll be good,” assented Larcum. 
“You fellows seem to be afraid of me.” 


WHERE HISTORY WAS MADE 177 


The conversation, however, was not continued, 
and the three boys sought their beds. The fol- 
lowing morning dawned clear and comparatively 
cool, and soon after breakfast the party was on its 
way toward Yorktown. Mr. Peyton seemed to 
share in the spirits and interest of his young com- 
panions, and as they rode through the country the 
pleasure of the old gentleman was great, as he 
pointed out the former abodes of men who had 
been high in the esteem of their fellows in the 
early days of the Old Dominion. Even Larcum 
listened without protest, though the names were 
all unknown to him ; but the sight of whitewashed 
cabins and little garden patches or fields of corn 
tilled by the negroes, who never failed to pause 
in their tasks as the party passed and respectfully 
salute the old gentleman, was far more impressive 
to him than the former homes of the great ones. 

At last Yorktown itself was seen, and Larcum's 
prophetic declaration that they wouldn't find 
much of a town there proved to be correct. But 
the tall, graceful monument that marked the spot 
where the final victory in the struggle for the 
liberty of the colonies had been gained, at once 
commanded the attention of all. 

“What a young country the United States is," 


178 FOUR BOYS IN LAND OF COTTON 


said John, thoughtfully. “Just think of it, only 
a little more than a hundred years ago, and Wash- 
ington and Cornwallis were right here, and fighting 
hard! And what a victory Yorktown was. I 
was reading only the other day how Washington 
fooled Sir Henry Clinton, who was then in New 
York, and kept him there by making him believe 
the Americans were going to attack the town, so 
that Sir Henry didn’t dare leave it and come to help 
Cornwallis down here, and he was clear across the 
Delaware with his army, too, before the redcoats 
found him out, and then it was too late. Wash- 
ington had Cornwallis bottled up here at York- 
town, the French fleet keeping the British gun- 
boats away, and the Continentals pushing up 
nearer by land with their intrenchments every 
hour. That nineteenth day of October, 1781, was 
a great day in American history, and Washington 
certainly was a great man.” 

“He was a great man,” said Mr. Peyton, fer- 
vently. “He was a Virginian, as you know. And 
Virginia is the mother of presidents, too.” 

“Hasn’t been doing very much in that line 
lately, has she, Mr. Peyton?” said Larcum, 
bluntly. “Crop seems to have run out some time 
ago.” 


WHERE HISTORY WAS MADE 179 

Larcum’s two friends glared angrily at him, and 
Mr. Peyton’s face flushed slightly as he said 
quietly, “The stock is as good as ever, and there 
are reasons why Virginia has not been at the front 
of late.” 

“There, now, what are you looking at me in that 
way for ? ” said Larcum, in a loud whisper, to Scott. 
“I haven’t said anything about the war since 
we started. I haven’t mentioned it once, now, 
have I?” 

“Oh, Larc, you certainly are the best-padded 
man I ever saw.” 

“I can do what I agree, anyway,” retorted Lar- 
cum, in evident pride. 

“If you are ready, young gentlemen, we will 
go on now to the residence of Governor Sir William 
Berkeley. You will be interested in that, I am 
sure.” 

“Does he live there now?” inquired Larcum. 

“Does he — Oh, yes, I see your joke,” said 
Mr. Peyton, graciously. 

“Mr. Peyton,” inquired John, quickly, “what 
do the people in Virginia think of the story of 
Pocahontas and Captain John Smith? I mean 
the story that after he had been made a prisoner 
by the Indians, and they were about to beat out 


180 FOUR BOYS IN LAND OF COTTON 


his brains with a club, that Powhatan’s daughter, 
Pocahontas, rushed in and saved his life.” 

“What do they think of it, sir?” inquired the 
old gentleman, in surprise. “Why, sir, we all 
think she was a very noble Indian maid to do 
that.” 

“But do they really think the story is true?” 

“‘True’ ! Why, sir, of course it is true ! Every 
man in Virginia knows it to be true, sir ! You 
don’t mean to tell me that you question it, sir?” 

“The best historians do not accept it. Captain 
John Smith was a very bold and a very brave 
man, too, and he did a good deal to help this 
colony in the first two years of its existence. But 
he told so many great stories that are known 
to be — well, I’ll say the work of his vivid imagi- 
nation. Of course he was here, and did some great 
work, but he made the colonists work hard, too, 
and they drove him out, and afterwards he dis- 
covered New England — ” 

“Bless my soul!” exclaimed Mr. Peyton, 
warmly. “You don’t mean to tell me that you 
deny the story of Pocahontas? Why, sir, I’ll 
show you, over in the Bruton Church in Williams- 
burg, the very font that was used when that Indian 
girl was baptized. True ? Why, sir, there isn’t a 


WHERE HISTORY WAS MADE 181 


member of one of the first families of Virginia 
that doesn’t know it is true. I don’t know what 
this world is coming to. You’ll be telling me 
next that Columbus didn’t discover America.” 

John smiled as he glanced for an instant at Scott, 
and then said: “No one denies that there was 
such an Indian girl as Pocahontas, the daughter 
of Powhatan. She married a white man, and 
visited England, and all that. It is only the story 
about her rushing in and saving the life of Captain 
John Smith — ” 

“It is true. I give you my word for it. It is 
as true as that Columbus discovered' America.” 

“Do you think he was the first one to come to 
the American shores?” 

“Certainly, sir. Why, I read that in my school 
history long before you were born, sir.” 

“There is no question that Columbus discovered 
America,” said John, respectfully. He made no 
reference to the strange writing on the rocks near 
Boston, or to the tower in Newport, or in any way 
to the coming of Leif Ericson and the Norsemen, 
facts concerning which the histories he had studied 
made much. Neither the time nor the occasion 
appeared to demand it. 

“Here we are at Greenspring,” declared Mr. 


182 FOUR BOYS IN LAND OF COTTON 


Peyton, when at last the party arrived at the 
place where the ruins of the mansion of Governor 
Berkeley were to be seen. “I am sure you all 
will be interested in this place.” 

A comer of the stately old building, with a part 
of the side wall now covered by the creeping ivy, 
and a portion of the opposite side, with the rem- 
nant of what appeared to have been at one time 
an addition to the main structure, were all that 
now remained of the stately home of the governor 
of the colony. As the boys leaped out from the 
coach, Larcum said to John, “I don’t see much 
here. Is this all?” 

“Wait, Larc,” responded John, curtly. 

When the party had inspected the place and 
returned to the coach, John said to Mr. Peyton, 
“Governor Berkeley had his hands full, didn’t 
he?” 

“He had his troubles — all great men do,” 
assented the old gentleman, kindly. 

“But if I remember aright, he and a few of his 
friends just took all the power of government 
into their own hands. They did not believe 
that the Maryland Indians had been treated 
right, and refused to join in the war against 
them.” 


WHERE HISTORY WAS MADE 183 


“ Yes, sir; Governor Sir William was not a man 
to be treated lightly.” 

“But didn’t Nathaniel Bacon, in 1676, raise 
troops from among the settlers and compel the 
governor to go to war? And didn’t he and his 
friends succeed in driving the governor out of the 
colony? Wasn’t it in this ‘ Bacon’s Rebellion’ 
that Jamestown was burned, and wasn’t it then 
that they made Williamsburg the capital ? James- 
town wasn’t ever rebuilt, was it?” 

“No, sir; Jamestown was never rebuilt,” as- 
sented Mr. Peyton. “But the rebellion was sub- 
dued, sir.” 

“Not till after Bacon himself died, was it? 
And then it fell to pieces because there wasn’t 
any leader. Didn’t King Charles the Second, when 
he heard that the new governor had hanged twenty 
of the rebels, say, ‘The old fool has taken away 
more lives in that naked country than I did for 
the murder of my father’?” 

“I never believed those stories, sir. They 
were all made up, in my opinion, sir!” declared 
Mr. Peyton, warmly. 

John did not protest, and turning to Larcum, 
who was seated beside him, he said, “Larc, you 
ought to find this interesting.” 


184 FOUR BOYS IN LAND OF COTTON 
“What?” 

“This Bacon’s Rebellion. Bacon is a first 
cousin of pork; pork is the staple of Chicago, 
therefore the — ” 

“Never you mind Chicago’s pork ! ” interrupted 
Larcum. “I’ll put it alongside your baked beans 
of Boston, any day in the week !” 

“It does go pretty well alongside, but as a sole 
diet — Larc, do you believe that the soul of the 
animal that is eaten goes into the man that eats 
it? Some people claim that it does.” 

“I don’t know. I’ve heard that some of you 
feed on the east winds that blow in Boston most 
of the time. From what I’ve seen, I think it is 
likely that the kind of diet you have does affect 
your speech, anyway, even if it doesn’t touch 
anything else.” 


CHAPTER XV 

IN WILLIAMSBURG 

In spite of the protests of the boys, Mr. Peyton 
insisted on the following morning upon taking 
them to Williamsburg. It was nearly noon 
when the young travellers arrived and looked 
about them in astonishment at the strange as- 
sembly which was to be seen in the broad, ram- 
bling street before them. 

“It’s market day,” said Mr. Peyton, smiling 
at the surprise of the boys. “Everybody from 
miles around comes to Williamsburg then.” 

Strange equipages were to be seen on every 
side. Mules, horses, oxen, were yoked together, 
and some of the oxen, tiring of the long wait, 
had stretched themselves upon the ground and 
were contentedly chewing their cud and ap- 
parently unmindful of the inability of the mules 
to follow their example. Negroes with shining 
faces and glistening eyes — young and old, men, 
women, and little children — were all there in 

185 


186 FOUR BOYS IN LAND OF COTTON 


the dusty street, and the bright colors in which 
many of them were arrayed added much to the 
picturesqueness of the scene. 

“I want you all to have a taste of a regular 
old-fashioned Southern dinner,” said Mr. Peyton, 
with a smile. “It might be well for us to order 
it now, and then we can come back for it at any 
time you may desire.” 

As soon as Scott had learned the name and 
location of the hotel which the old gentleman 
suggested, he left the party to wait for him in the 
street, and then hastened to make arrangements 
for the repast. In a brief time he returned to 
his friends with the assurance that the dinner 
would be served at one o’clock, and then, at Mr. 
Peyton’s suggestion, they all set forth for the 
grounds of the College of William and Mary. 

“The oldest college in the United States except 
Harvard,” explained John, “and the founder of 
the Phi Beta Kappa Fraternity.” 

“I’m afraid that doesn’t interest me,” remarked 
Scott, dolefully. “I don’t see any very bright 
prospects, at present, of my honoring that society 
by the use of my name.” 

“Oh, well, never mind, Scott,” laughed John. 
“There are other ways of honoring a fellow’s 


IN WILLIAMSBURG 187 

college than by being chosen a Phi Beta 
man.” 

“What, for example?” demanded Scott. 

“Paying one's term bills.” 

“Yes; I see that the College of William and 
Mary claims to be the first to adopt the elective 
system,” said Scott, referring to a catalogue which 
he was holding in his hand. 11 That isn't elective 
here, or anywhere. But just look at what the 
term bill is!” he added. “Why, it costs less for 
the whole thing than you and I pay for room rent 
alone, Jack.” 

“Probably they charge according to value,” 
suggested Larcum. 

“Not at all, not at all, young gentlemen,” 
said Mr. Peyton, warmly. “The cost has no 
relation whatever to the real value. This is 
one of the very best colleges in the land, I am 
informed.” 

None of the boys responded, until after a brief 
silence Scott said, “I see they have a contingent 
fee here.” 

“What's that?” inquired Larcum. 

“Oh, that's the charge they make at the begin- 
ning of a term for any damage a fellow may do — 
before he does it. They used to charge it in our 


188 FOUR BOYS IN LAND OF COTTON 


college, but it didn’t work very well. The fellows 
used to get out and throw stones at the windows 
just before the term ended, so as to be sure to get 
their money’s worth. They were charged with 
it, anyway, and they all thought if they had to pay 
the bill they would make it worth while. After 
a time, the college quit.” 

“I think most of the students here are gentle- 
men,” remarked Mr. Peyton, gravely. 

There was a twinkle in Scott’s eyes as he glanced 
at John, but neither responded to the implied 
rebuke, and their guide continued: “ George 
Washington was the first chancellor of the college 
after the Revolution, James Madison was at one 
time president, John Tyler was also chancellor 
— indeed, the list of great names connected with 
the institution is most remarkable.” 

“Do they do as good work now as they did 
then?” inquired John, quietly. 

“Certainly, sir. Certainly. It is one of the 
greatest colleges in the country.” 

“What is this 1 normal course’ I see in the 
catalogue?” asked Scott. 

“That, sir, is a course for the training of 
teachers. If the college was in session now, you 
could see much to interest you. Why, sir, there 


IN WILLIAMSBURG 


189 


are nearly, if not quite, two hundred students 
here. In all its long history of much more than 
two hundred years, I fancy there never was a 
time when the students were better, or more came 
from the first families of Virginia.” 

A quick and expressive glance from John was 
just in time to check the noisy demonstration 
that almost escaped Larcum, and for a time no 
one spoke, as the party moved about the college 
grounds. 

“I am very glad we have seen the old College 
of William and Mary,” said John, when the boys 
departed from the grounds. 

“I knew you would be interested, sir,” said 
Mr. Peyton, warmly, and when the boys looked into 
his shining face there was not one of them who 
had it in his heart to make any comparison be- 
tween the few simple buildings and the attractive 
but unpretentious campus and the great buildings 
and equipment of the famous old college in which 
John and Scott were students. 

“Now PH show you where President John 
Tyler lived at the time when he was elected 
president of the United States,” said Mr. Peyton, 
quietly. “You know I told you that Virginia 
is the mother of presidents.” 


190 FOUR BOYS IN LAND OF COTTON 

The building itself, the boys perceived when 
they arrived, was not large or pretentious, but 
the air of calm and peace which rested over the 
entire region was very marked here. A veranda, 
with a small balcony above it, both supported 
by small columns, adorned the front of the 
house, and the pathway which led to the front 
door was bordered on each side by quaint flowers, 
which then were in bloom. 

“It’s like stepping back into another genera- 
tion,” declared Scott. “It's a different kind of 
life down here from what one sees on Broadway. 
No one is in haste here, everybody seems con- 
tented, and even if there isn’t very much that is 
new in this old capital of Virginia, still it has its 
attractions. But I think I’d rather be in the 
crowd. How is it with you, Larc?” 

“I want things to move where I am !” declared 
Larcum, quickly. “This is like afternoon all 
day long. No, I shouldn’t like it, myself.” 

“There isn’t a place in all the world where 
people have learned how to live like this, sir. 
Noise, covetousness, confusion, are not the best 
elements for producing thoughtful men,” said 
Mr. Peyton. But the young travellers did not 
understand, and soon passed on. Their guide 


IN WILLIAMSBURG 


191 


would have lingered and told them tales of the 
early days, but the restlessness and impatience 
were too pronounced to be ignored. 

“That brick court-house was erected in 1769/ ? 
explained Mr. Peyton, as they drew near the struc- 
ture to which he referred. 

“I should think it would be a bit out of repair 
by this time,” laughed Larcum. “Aren’t they 
going to have a new one some day?” 

“Not so long as that famous building stands,” 
declared the old gentleman, a momentary fire 
appearing in his eyes as he spoke. “In that 
court-house, sir, some of the most famous orators 
the world ever heard have spoken. Those walls 
have resounded with the call to arms, the im- 
passioned appeal for liberty, the thrill of vic- 
tory — ” 

“They don’t look it, do they, Jack?” whispered 
Larcum. “To me they look as if they needed 
whitewash and a mason’s trowel. Maybe those 
cracks were made there when Patrick Henry 
thundered ; they look so, anyway.” 

“Keep still, Larc,” warned John. “It’s all 
interesting, every bit of it, and I wouldn’t have 
you hurt that old gentleman’s feelings for any- 
thing. It’s all real to him. You haven’t a spark 


192 FOUR BOYS IN LAND OF COTTON 


of sentiment in your pork-fed soul, I’m sometimes 
fearful.” 

“I like new things,” declared Larcum, positively. 
“Old clothes, old shoes, old houses — they’re all 
alike to me. I want mine up to date.” 

“Mr. Peyton is all right, anyway,” declared 
John. “He’s a gentleman of the old school, but 
a fine man, every inch of him. We’d all be 
better if we met more such people once in a 
while.” 

“Oh, yes, he’s a fine old boy,” acknowledged 
Larcum, warmly, in spite of his lack of reverence. 
“But tell me what he could do if he was down 
on La Salle Street in Chicago, or in Wall Street 
in New York.” 

“I’ve an idea there are plenty of men in both 
those streets who might be glad to change places 
with him,” replied John, thoughtfully. 

“Why don’t they, then, if they want to?” 
demanded Larcum. ‘ ‘ Nobody is preventing them, 
as far as I can see. I never could understand 
what was meant by all this talk about men not 
liking the life in the city and wishing they were 
back in the country from which they came when 
they were boys. Why don’t they leave?” 

There was no opportunity for John to respond, 


IN WILLIAMSBURG 


193 


as Mr. Peyton now said : “HI take you to Bruton 
Church, one of the most interesting sights in 
all the Old Dominion.” 

But when the boys had inspected the quaint 
interior, its walls and pews all being of a former 
generation, not even the font of Pocahontas served 
to allay Larcum’s irritation. “I don’t see any- 
thing very special in that old church,” he de- 
clared to John, when the boys came out into the 
churchyard once more. “I could show you a 
hundred churches in Chicago, and every one of 
them would take the prize over this old forlorn 
building, every time.” 

“Think of the men that have been in there, 
Larc,” suggested his friend, smilingly. 

“I’d rather think of the men that go in,” as- 
sented Larcum. “The dead are dead, all right, 
aren’t they?” 

“Yes, I suppose they are,” assented John, 
laughing again. 

“Here you will find some exceedingly inter- 
esting monuments,” broke in Mr. Peyton, who 
evidently was intent upon having his young com- 
panions see all that was worthy of inspection. 

“Yes, here’s one,” said Larcum to John, as he 
pulled his friend to his side and pointed at an 


194 FOUR BOYS IN LAND OF COTTON 


inscription carved upon an ancient stone. “Just 
see that, will you! ‘He belonged to one of the 
first families of Virginia/ ” Larcum read, in a loud 
whisper. “They put it even on their graves!” 
he added. “Very likely the old boy to-day, if 
he was alive, couldn’t even earn six per. It takes 
a v man to do that, I tell you!” 

“Larc,” said John, “I don’t believe there was 
any mistake about that trunk of yours, at all. 
You are a burglar by nature. You’d rob the 
dead of the credit they deserve.” 

“No, I wouldn’t, either!” retorted Larcum; 
“but even the Bible says a live dog is better than 
a dead lion. Now, doesn’t it?” 

“Hush. Let’s hear what Mr. Peyton is saying.” 

“The body of a preacher — a quaint old char- 
acter, in his day, is buried here,” Mr. Peyton 
explained. “You will notice that he had several 
wives, but it is put here on his tombstone that 
he expressly declared that he desired to be buried 
by the side of his first wife.” 

“What was he — a Mormon?” inquired Lar- 
cum. 

“Oh, no, sir. Not at all, sir. He was quite 
orthodox, I am told. There is a story that one 
time he had been invited to dine with a family 


IN WILLIAMSBURG 


195 


by the name of Owl. When the hour arrived, 
the parson was late — a habit of his, I am told — 
and after delaying for some time, the family and 
the guests finally seated themselves at the table. 
The dinner was half done, when at last Parson 
Jones arrived, but to show due respect to the 
cloth, the host stopped, and requested the late 
preacher to say grace. The parson had a way 
of dropping into poetry, and he at once began : — 

“O Lord of love, 

Look down from above, 

And bless the Owls 
Who ate the fowls 
And left the bones 
For Parson Jones.” 

Larcum laughed loudly, but Scott said soberly, 
“I shouldn't think much of my minister, if he did 
that sort of thing in my house." 

“He was a quaint and very peculiar person, I’m 
told," explained Mr. Peyton. 

“He must have been; I’m glad he’s dead, any- 
way," said Scott. Then, turning to John, he 
added: “This is right in your line, Jack. All 
the old gravestones you want." 

“It’s queer," said John, “what people will some- 
times put on tombstones. I read some epitaphs 


196 FOUR BOYS IN LAND OF COTTON 


the other day that beat anything I'd ever heard 
of — and they were true, too." 

“What were they? Please tell us! Don't 
keep me in such suspense. Tell them ! Tell 
them!" pleaded Scott, in mock eagerness. 

'“Well, there was one that ran in this way," 
responded John: — 

“Beneath this sod 
And under these trees 
Lieth the bod- 
Y of Solomon Pease. 

Pease is not here, 

But only the pod ; 

He shelled out his soul 
And it went up to God. 7 7 

“I never saw that in the Old Granary in Bos- 
ton," declared Scott, solemnly. 

“Here's another," began John again, ignoring 
his friend's bantering: — 

“ Here lies, returned to clay, 

Miss Arabella Young, 

Who on the 1st of May 
Began to hold her tongue.” 

“Then there was another: — 

“It was a cough that carried me off, 

It was a coffin they carried me off in.” 


IN WILLIAMSBURG 197 

“And then there was one more: — 

u Under this yew 
Lies Jonathan Blue. 

(His name was Black, 

But that wouldn’t do.) ,; 

“Don’t, please don’t, Jack,” pleaded Scott, 
drawing forth his handkerchief and pretending 
to wipe his eyes. “The exquisite pathos of those 
deeply touching lines is too much for a tender 
soul like mine. Besides, I’m hungry, and it’s 
past the hour for that ‘ Southern dinner,’ too. 
Come on; let’s start for the hotel.” 

Scott’s suggestion was at once adopted unani- 
mously, and soon the three boys, accompanied 
by Mr. Peyton, who they insisted should now be 
their guest, were on their way to the hotel. It 
was manifest that the old gentleman was enjoying 
the companionship of the young travellers, and 
his face was beaming as he was kept busy ac- 
knowledging the greetings of the people that were 
met as the party proceeded through the wide 
and rambling street in the direction of the hotel 
where the “Southern dinner” was to be served. 


CHAPTER XVI 


THE MISSING TRUNK 

\ 

Although the boys were a half-hour behind the 
time when it had been agreed that the dinner 
should be served, they were compelled to wait 
almost an hour more before the colored man 
summoned them to the dining room. 

“I'm hungry/ 7 declared Larcum, pathetically. 
“Ever since I had that 1 headache 7 on the 
steamer the other night, my appetite has been 
great. 77 

“Since when ? 77 demanded Scott. 

“You needn 7 1 laugh ! 7 7 retorted Larcum . “You 
can 7 t say much. I wonder if anything down 
here is ever on time. It seems to me it must be 
like the land we read about in our English the 
last year we were in school. 77 

“What land was that? 77 inquired John. 

“I can 7 t just remember the name of it, 77 
replied Larcum. 

“Who wrote about it? What was the name of 
the book? 77 


198 


THE MISSING TRUNK 


199 


“I can't remember that, either/' said Larcum, 
ignoring the laugh of his friends. “But it was 
something or other about a kind of plant, and it 
was after-dinner all the time." 

“Oh, you mean Tennyson's Lotus Eaters, and 
the land where it was always afternoon. Wasn't 
that it, Larc?" demanded John, lightly. 

“Perhaps it was — I'm not just sure," ad- 
mitted Larcum. “But, whatever it was, this 
country makes me think of it, though just now it 
is before dinner rather than after it. Everybody 
seems to be taking life as if they never made or 
kept an appointment. Nobody is hurrying, noth- 
ing runs, not even the water." 

Larcum's friends laughed, but they made no 
response, as they all eagerly sought the table where 
Mr. Peyton was awaiting them, and soon were 
busied in the repast which was spread before 
them. Their appetites were stimulated by the 
prospect of a “Southern dinner," and the savory 
odors which came from the near-by kitchen were 
decidedly tempting. 

“I never tasted soup like this," declared John, 
enthusiastically, as the boys entered upon their 
repast. 

“Fine !" murmured Scott, who was too busy to 


200 FOUR BOYS IN LAND OF COTTON 


look up from his plate. “I think they must 
have put in the essence of everything good that 
grows in the South.” Both John and Scott were 
so enthusiastic that neither noticed when Lar- 
cum’s plate was removed that its contents had 
barely been tasted. Nor when the “stews” and 
many tempting side-dishes, and not even when 
the many and varied desserts were served, did 
their huge companion seem to be enjoying him- 
self. In spite of his declaration that he never 
had been so hungry, his food, for the greater part, 
remained untasted. 

When at last the “Southern dinner” had all 
been served, and the party withdrew to the piazza, 
both John and Scott were loud in their praises, 
and the expression of satisfaction on their faces 
indicated that their words were not vain. As 
Mr. Peyton declared that he must now return to 
his home, his young companions crowded about 
him, shaking the old gentleman by the hand, and 
endeavoring to express their gratitude for all his 
kindness. Mr. Peyton’s face was beaming as he 
declared “the pleasure had all been his,” and in 
response to the declaration of Scott that a visit 
to New York must soon be made by the old 
gentleman and his wife, he smilingly declared that 


THE MISSING TRUNK 


201 


“ nothing in the world would give him greater 
pleasure, sir!” 

At last the good-bys were all spoken, and the 
boys had watched the departure and given their 
college yell for the white-haired, dignified man, 
and as soon as his carriage disappeared from sight 
they at once turned toward the station, where 
they were to take the train back to Newport 
News. 

“I tell you, fellows, Mr. Peyton was the real 
thing,” declared Scott. “A man didn’t need to 
look at him twice to understand he was a gentle- 
man. You couldn’t imagine such a man as that 
keeping his seat in a street-car and leaving a lady 
standing.” 

“ That’s right, Scott. I understand a little 
better what they mean when they speak of the 
‘ first families of Virginia,’” said John. “And 
after all, one has to acknowledge that the blood 
isn’t mixed down here as it is up North. We’re 
made up of every nation under the sun, and these 
people down here have kept the Saxon part of the 
nation cleaner and purer than any other part 
has.” 

“I don’t think they’re any better for that,” 
retorted Larcum. “This old boy is all right, but 


202 FOUR BOYS IN LAND OF COTTON 


he couldn’t earn six per if his life depended upon 
it. He is like an old piece of china such as my 
mother is so fond of. It is all right enough, and 
yet I confess that, for my part, I like men who can 
do things. But we mustn’t forget to see that sky- 
scraper in Richmond he was telling us about.” 
Larcum laughed as he spoke, and then added 
quickly, “I wish I might find some fruit or some- 
thing to eat.” 

Both his companions laughed loudly, and Scott 
slapped his friend on the shoulder, as he inquired, 
“Larc, you don’t mean that you really are hungry, 
do you ? My ! I don’t feel as if I ever could eat 
again. Did you ever taste such chicken in all 
your life !” 

“Larc only tasted it,” said John. “What was 
the trouble?” 

“What kind of soup did you call that, fellows?” 
said Larcum, soberly. 

“Gumbo, chicken gumbo. The best I ever 
tasted,” declared Scott, warmly. 

“Mine wasn’t bald, anyway,” said Larcum, 
glumly. 

“'Bald’! What do you mean?” demanded 
Scott. 

“If I could talk like Jack, I’d use some big 


THE MISSING TRUNK 


203 


words and ask you what the component ingre- 
dients of that concoction were.” 

“What was it you found in your soup, Larc?” 

“I found a twist of woolly hair, that's what I 
found ! I thought I was hungry, but I lost my 
appetite very suddenly. I thought at first I'd 
send for the barber, and then I thought I'd tell 
you ; but ignorance is bliss, they say, so I let you 
go on. I knew there was bird, squirrel, chicken, 
corn, beans, ham, tongue, and a good many other 
things in that dish, but I had to draw the line when 
it came to adding a boiled darkey. I'm no cannibal 
myself. I'm broad-minded, though, and I'm not 
finding any fault with you fellows. You seemed 
to enjoy it.” 

“Larc,” said John, after a brief but eloquent 
silence, “you make one think of something I 
read in the paper the other day. Bobby Jones 
was going out to a tea-party, and the last thing 
his mother said to him was: ‘Now, Bobby, when 
they pass the cake to you the second time, you 
must say, “No, thank you.” Don't forget it.' 
When Bobby was appealed to by his hostess to 
accept a second piece of cake, he called out, ‘Nope ! 
I've had enough, and don't you forget it.' ” 

“Yes, I remember that,” said Scott, seriously. 


204 FOUR BOYS IN LAND OF COTTON 


“My great-grandfather said his great-grandfather 
told him about it when he was a small boy. That 
came over in the Mayflower , I think.’ ’ 

“ There comes our train ! ” suddenly exclaimed 
Larcum, and conversation abruptly ceased as 
the three boys ran swiftly toward the station. 
“ There!” he added, gravely, when the boys 
obtained seats in the rear car just before the 
train started, “ we’ve seen a good many things 
to-day, and we’ve startled the natives, too, for 
we’ve shown them how a man actually looks 
when he is running.” 

“Lee would tell you, if he was here,” said John, 
demurely, “that that is something they never 
learn down here.” 

“I can believe it!” declared Larcum, warmly. 
His friends laughed in response, and then all three 
settled back in their seats to read the papers which 
they had secured from the newsboy on the 
train. 

After their return to Newport News, as the fol- 
lowing day was Sunday, it was agreed to go over 
to Old Point Comfort and remain until Monday 
morning. Larcum was eager to obtain news of 
his missing trunk, and his friends were equally 
eager for the rest of a day. 


THE MISSING TRUNK 


205 


“Any news of my trunk ?” demanded Larcum 
of the clerk, as soon as the boys entered the 
hotel. 

“I dunno, sir,” said the clerk. “HI have to 
look it up.” 

“Didn’t you telegraph, as I told you?” 

“Did you leave word to telegraph?” inquired 
the clerk, blandly. 

Larcum’s eyes flashed, and he glanced for an 
instant angrily at his friends, who now were 
sincerely sharing in his anxiety. 

“‘Did I leave word to telegraph’!” Larcum 
exclaimed. “I — did,” he said calmly, by an 
effort restraining his anger. “Please look it up 
for me, and see if any word has come.” 

The clerk of the hotel turned away, apparently 
indifferent, and Larcum’s ire instantly increased 
to such an extent that John glanced meaningly at 
Scott, and both boys pressed nearer their friend. 

“I asked you to find out if any word had come 
about my trunk,” said Larcum, once more, to the 
man behind the desk. 

“Yes, sir, I heard you,” replied the clerk, with- 
out looking up from his desk. 

“Are you going to do it ?” Larcum’s voice was 
low, but the anxiety of his friends was not relieved 


206 FOUR BOYS IN LAND OF COTTON 


by that fact, for they knew well the manner in 
which their huge friend’s anger manifested itself. 

“You’d better see the porter.” 

“No, I am seeing you. You can call the porter.” 

“Look here, Larc,” interposed John, quietly. 
“You take the key to your room and go up and see 
if everything is all right, and we’ll look after this 
end. It may be your trunk has come, and you’ll 
find it all right, and there now.” 

The huge Larcum glared for a moment at the 
clerk, who still did not look up from his desk, but 
as John called to one of the boys for the keys to 
their room and at once received them, he handed to 
his friend the one that belonged to him, and after 
a brief hesitation Larcum took it, and abruptly 
started for his room, leaving his two friends 
still standing at the desk. 

“He won’t find any trunk in his room,” said 
the clerk, as he arose and once more approached 
the boys. 

“Why not? Where is it?” demanded Scott. 

“It isn’t there. It has been taken away.” 

“Yes, but where is it?” 

“I can’t tell you that.” 

“Why not?” 

“Because — ” The clerk hesitated, and did not 


THE MISSING TRUNK 207 

explain. “How long do you plan to stay here?” 
he inquired somewhat abruptly. 

“Not very long, if this is the way you — ” 
began Scott, now almost as angry as his friend 
Larcum had been. 

“Will you be here till Monday?” interrupted 
the clerk. 

“We had expected to,” began Scott, “but Fm 
not sure now just when — ” 

“By Monday morning we’ll probably know all 
about it, sir.” 

“Know about the trunk?” inquired John. 

“Which trunk? Have you telegraphed?” de- 
manded Scott. 

“Oh, yes, sir. We’ve telegraphed all right, 
sir,” responded the man, with a smile that chiefly 
served to increase the anger and confusion of the 
two boys. 

“Well, what did you hear?” asked Scott. 

“I think everything will be explained by 
Monday morning, sir,” said the clerk, affably. 
“And meanwhile, sir, my advice to you is to tell 
your friend to keep quiet, and not to talk with 
everybody. He talks too much, sir.” 

“Your incomprehensible vocabulary is multitu- 
dinously prolific, but the essential features of 


208 FOUR BOYS IN LAND OF COTTON 


your clarified explanation are still portentious of 
a dereliction in the conservative courtesy with 
which a belated knight-errant finds himself 
inductively expectant in your noble hostelry," 
remarked John, soberly. 

“What's that you're saying, sir?" demanded 
the clerk, his face flushing as he spoke. 

“By Monday morning you'll know?" inquired 
John, softly. 

“Yes, sir. That's what I said, and my advice 
to you, sir — " 

“Pray accept my gratitude for the unrequested 
proffer of the valuable and gratuitous information, 
which at the present time is not calculated to be 
conducive to calmness, or to elongate the recep- 
tivity of the individual receptiveness, so to speak. 
You follow me, I take it?" said John, soberly. 

“I can't follow you, now. Monday morning 
I'll be able to explain to you, as I said." 

“Come on, Scott," said John, quietly. “We'll 
go up to our rooms." 

“What do you fancy it means, Jack?" in- 
quired Scott, as the boys halted before the door 
of Larcum's room. 

“I don't 'fancy' it at all. I don't understand 
it. But we'll have to do our best to calm Larc, 


THE MISSING TRUNK 


209 


or he’ll pull the house down the way Samson 
did with the — ” 

John did not complete the sentence, for Scott 
had opened the door, and they beheld the angry 
Larcum before them. 

“My trunk isn’t here!” he declared savagely. 

“Never mind, Larc,” said Scott, soothingly. 
“It will be here, all right. The clerk says it will, 
by Monday morning.” 

“What was the matter with him?” demanded 
Larcum. “He acted as if he thought I was an 
escaped convict. I’d like to — ” 

“Of course you would, Larc. But never mind, 
now. This is just one of the accidents of travel, 
you know. You can’t bring all the comforts of 
home with you, when you’re off on such a trip as 
this. You have to put up with some things.” 

“But what am I going to do ? ” pleaded Larcum, 
helplessly. “All my clothes — ” 

“We’ll help you out,” broke in John. “We 
can fix you up till Monday morning.” 

“ You fix me!” roared Larcum. “Why, man, 
I couldn’t wear your clothes! I — ” 

“Not mine alone, perhaps,” admitted John. 
“But both of ours together. Your foot isn’t 
twice as big as mine or as Scott’s, either. So, 


210 FOUR BOYS IN LAND OF COTTON 


instead of one pair of socks, we’ll give you two. 
Instead of one coat, you can wear two. If one 
cap isn’t enough, you can wear both Scott’s and 
mine.” 

The huge young traveller laughed, and it was 
evident that his good nature had been restored, 
but the mystery of the missing trunk was no less 
perplexing than it had been. 


CHAPTER XVII 


LOSS AND GAIN 

Eakly Monday morning, the young travellers 
were prepared to start for Newport News once 
more, where they were planning to take the 
steamer for Richmond. It was true that this 
route would take them over a part of the trip they 
had previously taken, but they were eager to go on 
to the capital of the Old Dominion, and not one of 
the three boys regretted the prospect of seeing 
once more some of the sights which had so deeply 
interested them in the preceding days. 

No word had been received concerning the 
missing trunk, and no explanation had been given 
by the officials of the hotel as to why the trunk 
in Larcum’s room had been removed, or where it 
then was. The young giant of the party was in 
a state of mingled anger and perplexity when he 
and his companions stood in front of the desk to 
settle their accounts. 

In response to Larcum’s demand, the clerk said 
211 


212 FOUR BOYS IN LAND OF COTTON 


quietly, “ You may leave your address with us, and 
we will forward your trunk as soon as it arrives.” 

“But what am I to do before it comes?” 
demanded Larcum, in dismay. 

The clerk shrugged his shoulders and simply 
said: “That’s for you to say. If you prefer to 
wait for it here, that may be the better way.” 

“We can’t wait. We’ve telegraphed a friend 
to meet us in Richmond. We don’t want to 
stay here any longer. Where is the trunk that was 
in my room — I mean the one that was like mine 
and was sent on here by mistake?” demanded 
Larcum. 

“Have you young gentlemen read the papers 
lately?” inquired the clerk, blandly. 

“We’ve seen them. I can’t say that we have 
read them carefully,” replied Larcum. 

“Then you didn’t read about the robbery of 
the post-office over here at Chuckatuck?” 

“Robbery! What robbery? When was it?” 
inquired Larcum, blankly. 

“Thursday night the Chuckatuck post-office 
was broken open, and about two hundred dollars’ 
worth of money and stamps were taken. Of 
course the police all over the country have been 
notified, and when you showed me what was in 


LOSS AND GAIN 


213 


that trunk of yours — why — I — ” The clerk 
stopped in some confusion. 

“Why, you naturally thought you had found 
the man that did it,” suggested Scott, promptly. 
Then, turning to Larcum, he said solemnly 
“There, Larc, I told you you would be found out 
Own up, now, and let us get out of this place.” 

“Oh, we didn’t suspect you, sir,” said the clerk, 
promptly. “But when you told me about the 
mistake, I thought, perhaps, I’d — ” 

“You were quite right,” said Scott, promptly. 
“I don’t blame you in the least. It was only 
natural that you should want to watch every 
suspicious person that came in. We knew it 
would be that way. We told Larc he ought not 
to try to — ” 

“But that trunk in my room came from New 
York,” interrupted Larcum. 

“There’s no doubt you think it did,” said the 
clerk, blandly. 

“But it did!” protested Larcum, warmly. 
“It was my mistake. You see, it looked just like 
mine, and when I landed in New York I went 
with the porter to see to it, and I made the mistake 
in selecting this one. It looked just like mine, and 
my key fits it, too. Where is that trunk now? ” 


214 FOUR BOYS IN LAND OF COTTON 


“At police headquarters,” said the man. 

“What!” exclaimed Larcum. 

“Yes, sir,” explained the clerk. “While you 
were gone I sent for the chief, and we looked it 
all over together, sir. Naturally, the sight of 
all those — those implements seemed a bit sus- 
picious. Oh, we didn’t suspect you, sir,” he 
added quickly. “You are all right, sir; for not 
one of you three answers the description of the 
suspicious men that were seen in Chuckatuck the 
evening of the robbery. Oh, no, sir,” he said 
again, “we don’t suspect you.” 

“Fellows,” said Larcum, abruptly, “I’m going 
to stay over here. You two go on and take your 
trip, and I’ll come up by train to-night. Yes, 
you will, too,” he added decisively, as his friends 
protested that they would postpone their depar- 
ture and remain with him. “I’d rather be alone, 
anyway. I’m going to call up New York on 
the telephone and get this tangle straightened 
out.” 

“But suppose you are thrown into prison, 
Larc,” suggested John, soberly; “you’ll need 
somebody to stand by you.” 

“He won’t be,” declared the clerk, quickly. 
“I told you that we did not have any suspicion of 


LOSS AND GAIN 


215 


any one in this party. You are at liberty to go 
where and when you please.” 

“That’s good of you,” remarked Scott, dryly. 

There was a hasty conference among the young 
travellers, the result of which was that Larcum’s 
suggestion was adopted. He was to remain for 
a day and try to find out more concerning his 
missing trunk, then by night was to go on to 
Richmond and meet his companions at the hotel 
there. The fact that Lee was awaiting their 
arrival, and that it might be impossible to wire 
him of any proposed change in the plans, was the 
deciding element in the decision. 

Accordingly, John and Scott departed, leaving 
their friend to continue his investigations, and 
relying upon his promise to join them in Rich- 
mond on the following morning. The voyage up 
the winding course of the James was one that 
appealed to both boys strongly, and many were 
their expressions of regret that their two friends 
were not with them to share in the experiences 
of that summer day. Perhaps the sights which 
appealed most strongly to them were the old 
homes that could be seen far back from the banks 
of the river; the stately mansions, each with 
its own historic name, and in former years 


216 FOUR BOYS IN LAND OF COTTON 


the centre of social life and gayety. Negroes of 
many shades of color, from white to black, were 
to be seen at the landing-places of the steamer, 
and the songs and light-hearted laughter were 
alike novel and pleasing to the young travellers. 

It was like travelling in a foreign land, Scott 
declared, so entirely different were the sights 
from those they were accustomed to see in their 
own cities. Several times the boys declared they 
had found the exact counterpart of their old 
friend, Mr. Peyton, when some dignified old 
gentleman, white-haired and gracious, came on 
board the steamer, and both agreed that such 
characters must belong to the land through which 
they were travelling, for their counterpart was not 
to be found elsewhere. 

“Jack, you’ll be looking up your 1 family tree’ 
when you get back to Boston,” declared Scott, 
with a laugh. “You’ll be trying to find some 
connection with the 1 first families of Virginia.’” 

“I’m satisfied,” said John. “I’ve lived under 
the shadow of Harvard all my life, and I tell you, 
Scott, the stock that grew — ” 

“Oh, never mind, Jack,” interrupted Scott, 
lightly. “I’ll take your word for it that John 
Adams was the real thing. What impresses me, 


LOSS AND GAIN 


217 


though, is that, wherever you go, the people that 
live there are dead certain that the axis on which 
the earth revolves comes straight up through that 
town. It doesn’t make a bit of difference where 
you are, either; they all believe it, every one of 
them.” 

“How about New York?” 

“Oh, it’s just the same there,” acknowl- 
edged Scott. “I cannot tell a lie. My mother’s 
family name was Van Voorhees, and she would 
have put that on to me, too, if my older brother 
hadn’t the load to bear. Oh, I tell you, your 
first families of Virginia and your Boston blue 
bloods aren’t in the same class with the old 
Knickerbocker stock.” 

“What did the old Dutchmen do, anyway?” 
demanded John, scornfully. 

“'Do’! 'Do’! retorted Scott. “ Well, there are 
some things they didn’t do. They didn’t come 
over here because they were the last run-out 
editions of their families. They didn’t come over 
here to hang witches or whip Quakers. They were 
enterprising old gentlemen, those Dutchmen were. 
They came over to relieve some of the wild ani- 
mals of their skins. They — ” 

“New York has been true to its traditions, then, 


218 FOUR BOYS IN LAND OF COTTON 


that’s all I can say,” broke in John, dryly. 
“Haven’t I heard that that is still the chief 
occupation of your great financiers? ‘ Shearing 
the lambs’ is what they call it down on Wall 
Street, isn’t it?” 

“The ‘lambs’ don’t have to come.” 

“That’s all right, Scott. I agree with almost 
everything you say. I think you are quite 
correct.” 

“Thank you kindly,” laughed Scott. 

The steamer was now making preparations to 
dock, and John added, “I wonder if Lee will meet 
us here or at the hotel.” 

“That’s a great question, knowing Lee as we 
do,” retorted Scott. “Of course — There he is ! 
There he is now!” he suddenly shouted, as he 
perceived his friend in the assembly on the dock. 
“Hi! Hi! Lee! Lee!” he called. 

Instantly there came a response from Lee, who 
ran alongside the slowly moving steamer, and 
before Scott and John were fully aware of what 
had happened, the impulsive young Southerner had 
leaped on board and came bounding toward his 
friends. Unmindful of the presence of strangers 
on the deck, Lee flung his arm around Scott’s 
neck and then repeated the act with John. 


LOSS AND GAIN 


219 


“What’s the matter with you?” he demanded 
of the latter, for John, in spite of his intense 
love for Lee, somehow felt embarrassed at the 
latter's demonstrative manner. “ Aren't you glad 
to see me?” he demanded. “This is the hap- 
piest moment of all my life. I didn't really 
expect to see you all — ” 

“What were you waiting on the dock for, then ? ” 
demanded John. 

“I was hopin', just hopin'. I can't say I was 
really expectin'. Where's Larc?” 

Scott briefly explained what had befallen the 
fourth member of the party, and Lee's delight over 
the huge Larcum's predicament was as great as 
that of the other boys. As the steamer was now 
fast to the dock, at his suggestion, the boys 
leisurely made their way ashore, and then pro- 
ceeded to the carriage which Lee had previously 
secured. It was an antiquated vehicle, and its 
driver also was as unique a specimen of the 
negro race as the Northern boys had ever be- 
held. 

“His face looks as if it had been stepped on,” 
declared Scott, referring to the driver, after they 
had entered the street. 

“ Yaas,” laughed Lee. “I reckon it has.” 


220 FOUR BOYS IN LAND OF COTTON 


“Lee, was this coach here before the war?” 
inquired John. 

Their friend laughed and said: “You are a 
regular Yank still, aren’t you, Jack? Your first 
word in Richmond is a question.” 

As soon as the boys had gone to their rooms in 
the hotel, for Lee had already selected and engaged 
these, the young Southerner said, “I reckon you 
all will be ready to go with me at sunrise to- 
morrow mornin’.” 

“Go where, Lee?” inquired John. 

“To see one of the greatest sights you ever 
saw.” 

“He’s going to take us to see that ‘ sky-scraper,’ 
Jack,” declared Scott. 

“No, sir. I don’t know anything about your 
sky-scrapers. We keep a bit closer to the solid 
earth down here than you do up North. But I 
want you to see what I’m going to show you early 
in the morning. I reckon it will be a bit hard for 
you to get up so early, but I’ll call you, and if you 
all don’t say it was worth it when we’re done, 
then I’ll agree not to trouble you again with any 
such demands on your time.” 

“What do you say, Jack?” inquired Scott, 
demurely. 


LOSS AND GAIN 


221 


“I wasn’t just looking for such enterprise in the 
land of cotton, but as we haven’t seen Lee for a 
long time, I’m willing to break my rules and get 
up early in the morning, provided he won’t ask 
us to do it again. Do we have breakfast before or 
after, Lee?” 

“ After. I’ll have the horses here at sun- 
rise.” 

“ Horses ! Are we going in a carriage?” 

“No, sir,” laughed Lee. “No, sir. Not at 
all.” 

It was early on the following morning, although 
the sun had been up for an hour, when the three 
boys were standing on the street in front of the 
hotel. “Here they come, sir!” exclaimed Lee, 
as three colored boys were seen leading three 
horses by their bridles. Each horse was saddled, 
and as soon as John perceived what was expected 
of him, he said quickly, “Lee, I don’t ride horse- 
back.” 

“That’s all right, that’s all right. We’ll give 
you the safest animal in the lot, and you’ll have 
a good time. It’s all right, Jack.” 

It was too late to protest, and John did not 
reply. When he was assisted to his mount, he was 
aware that the colored boys were grinning de- 


222 FOUR BOYS IN LAND OF COTTON 


lightedly,' but he was too intent upon his own 
difficulties to give much heed to his delighted 
attendants. Even after he was in his seat, his 
feeling of uneasiness was not allayed; but as he 
followed his friends, who rode slowly along the 
streets, his anxiety, in a measure, was relieved. 
The animal upon which he was mounted appeared 
to be gentle, and the gait at which they were 
moving was so slow that his fear of being thrown 
from the saddle was less keen than when he had 
started. Lee, from time to time, dropped back 
beside his friend, and his words of praise for 
John’s skill were designed, at least, to encourage 
the novice. 

By this time the little party had arrived on the 
borders of the city, and Lee suddenly exclaimed : 
“ There ! That’s what I brought you out here 
to see.” 

As John and Scott looked up, they beheld before 
them a heroic equestrian statue of General Robert 
E. Lee. The bronze horse upon which the great 
leader was mounted was full of action and fire, but 
John, at least, was at once deeply impressed by 
the face of the man. Almost as if he was looking 
at sights beyond the vision of his fellows, General 
Lee seemed to be peering into the distance or the 


LOSS AND GAIN 


223 


future ; and the expression of his countenance was 
at once so strong, and yet so full of gentleness, so 
serious, and at the same time so tender and sym- 
pathetic, that unconsciously all of the young 
travellers became silent, and almost in awe gazed 
up at the majestic figure before them. 


CHAPTER XVIII 


THE HOUSEMAN 

“If that is the kind of a man General Lee was,” 
said Scott, in a low voice, “I do not wonder that 
you Southerners have made so much of him.” 

“We don’t make him ‘so much’; it’s what he 
was himself,” said Lee, quietly. “He was a 
great man — a genius; and with the tenderest 
heart in all the world. Everybody loves his very 
name.” 

“You think he was a greater man than Wash- 
ington, don’t you?” inquired John. 

“We don’t put it that way. I love my 
mother and I love my sisters ; but I don’t say one 
feeling is like the other. They are both right, and 
I reckon that’s about the way we feel toward 
Washington and Lee.” 

“Everybody in the whole country is coming to 
see what a noble man General Lee was,” said 
Scott, warmly. “The people North as well as the 
South.” 


224 


THE HORSEMAN 


225 


“You have good reason to say that/’ replied 
Lee. “Just think what might have happened 
if Robert E. Lee had been a different kind of a 
man. Just suppose he had not acted as he did 
after the surrender at Appomatox Court House. 
Why, the Southern army might have been broken 
up into hundreds of little guerilla bands and kept 
on fighting for years. Some of them would have 
been glad to do it. Why, I heard an old soldier 
say, only the other day, that he wanted it 
distinctly understood that he did not surrender 
at Appomatox.” Lee laughed quietly as he 
spoke, but his seriousness was still manifest. 

“’Twould have been worse for them if they had 
tried to keep it up than it would have been for 
the country, I’m thinking,” said John, soberly. 

“No, after they had fought it out it showed the 
true spirit when General Lee accepted the result, 
and then turned to do his best to make up for all 
that had been lost. He was a mighty good man, 
Lee, and you ought to feel proud of your name.” 

“I do,” said Lee, his eyes brightening instantly. 

“That’s all right,” continued John, “and I’m 
glad the people up North are coming to honor 
your leader, too. How do you people feel about 
some of our leaders?” 


226 FOUR BOYS IN LAND OF COTTON 


“They feel all right,” said Lee, quickly. 

“How about Grant?” inquired John. 

“They all think he was a fine man. Of course 
he won out because he had so many men that he 
could crush General Lee, but we all think he was a 
great general. Sherman is the man we all don’t 
— love.” Lee laughed, but his face flushed 
slightly as he spoke. 

“What was the matter with Sherman?” in- 
quired Scott. 

“He wantonly destroyed property. His men 
burned and stole and — ” 

“Hold on a bit, Lee,” interrupted John. “Why 
was it that he was down here? He didn’t want 
to come, did he ? And he would have stopped, too, 
any minute when the word was said. He didn’t 
begin the war, now, honestly, did he ? You’ll have 
to own up — ” 

“Oh, quit your talking about ancient history,” 
broke in Scott. “We aren’t down here to see 
that. Both sides knew they were right, and both 
honor their own men. And the time has come 
when we can afford to look for the good things, 
and the big ones, too, and not for the little ones. 
I’m hungry, and if we don’t get back to our hotel 
pretty soon, I’m afraid there won’t be any break- 
fast left.” 


THE HORSEMAN 


227 


Lee’s face, which had clouded at John’s ques- 
tions, now brightened once more as he said: 
“That’s all right, Scott. We’ll have to draw a 
line on talking about some things, for neither of 
us can just understand how the other feels about 
it. I’m mighty glad you fellows are here, and 
agree with me that it was worth getting up early 
in the mornin’ to come out here to see Lee’s 
monument. Now, I’ll let you alone about 
other — ” 

“But I don’t see any harm in talking about 
such things, ” persisted John. ‘ ‘ I can talk without 
having my diaphragm contract with wrath — ” 

“But I can’t,” laughed Lee, a trifle uneasily, 
“so we’d better agree not to tread on tender spots, 
and we’ll all be happier. There’s enough I can 
show you fellows that will interest you — Hello ! ” 
he added quickly, as the horse which John was 
riding suddenly reared and then plunged for- 
ward. 

Instantly all thoughts of war were forgotten in 
the plight of John. His bridle-rein had been 
snatched from his hand by the sudden action of his 
horse, and the young rider was clutching the neck 
of the animal with both arms. As Lee and Scott 
instantly started their own horses into a run, 


228 FOUR BOYS IN LAND OF COTTON 


both being eager to rescue their friend, the horse 
which John was riding promptly increased its 
speed. It was manifest that the young rider was 
no longer able to control the beast, and Lee’s face 
became pale as he rode swiftly forward. The 
pace of John’s horse instantly increased, and 
almost before the boys were aware of what had 
occurred, the trio were racing madly through the 
streets. 

Every moment now Lee feared to see his friend 
thrown from the saddle, and his own frantic calls 
to the horse he was riding redoubled. On the side- 
walks people stopped and stared at the running 
horses, but the riders, apparently, were unmind- 
ful of the attention they were arousing. John 
still maintained the lead, but whether or not he 
would long be able to keep his seat was the 
problem that increased the anxiety of Lee. 

The leader had now swerved from the course, and 
turning into a street to the left, was dashing wildly 
in a direction of which even Lee knew but little. 
The faces of Lee and Scott were paler even than 
that of John, and several times Lee shouted for aid 
to men whom he could see ahead of him. Once 
an attempt was made by two negroes in response 
to the appeal to check the running horse, but as 


THE HORSEMAN 


229 


it resulted in nearly unseating John, and his horse 
did not abate its speed, Lee desisted. 

“Look out! Look out!” It was not an 
appeal now, but a word of warning which Lee 
shouted. There was agony in his voice, too, but 
John did not glance behind to discover the cause 
of the cry. Before him he could see the numerous 
tracks of a railroad, and the gates at the street- 
crossing were already slowly descending. The gate- 
man, too, now was shouting, and John, aware of 
his peril, — for an approaching train could already 
be seen, — was exerting himself to the utmost to 
stop the running horse, or at least cause him to 
swerve in his course. 

But the animal was manifestly as terrified as 
was John, and the call and efforts of his rider 
were unavailing. Plunging forward, the frantic 
beast darted across the tracks, grazing the gates, 
which the gateman, quickly aware of the true 
condition, partly lifted ; but the oncoming 
train was now not more than thirty feet distant. 

A cry of horror arose from Lee’s lips as he and 
his companion drew the rein so sharply on their 
own horses that the animals were nearly thrown 
back upon their haunches ; but the two boys were 
left safely on the street outside the gates. They 


230 FOUR BOYS IN LAND OF COTTON 


were gazing at John, whom now it seemed as if 
nothing could save. Even his horse, apparently, 
was indifferent to the locomotive which was 
almost upon him. Men had stopped on the street 
and were staring at the helpless rider. The 
engineer and the fireman were leaning out from 
the windows of the locomotive and gazing in 
terror down upon the victim. Lee rose in his 
saddle and was leaning forward, staring at the 
sight, a sob escaping his lips as the crisis came. 
Could John escape ? Would his horse be able to 
gain the place of safety? Apparently the loco- 
motive and the horse and its rider were cer- 
tain to meet. The slightest stumble on the part 
of the terrified beast meant certain death for 
both. 

Lee closed his eyes as the fatal instant came. 
A pallor spread over his face, but Scott did not 
perceive it, for he was unable to turn his face away 
from the sight before him. He did not speak, and 
a moment later, as the train dashed onward, the 
shrieks of its locomotive having ceased, Lee 
opened his eyes. 

“Did he, did he?” he gasped. 

“I think so. I can’t tell whether he was struck 
or not. It didn’t look as if he was. There goes 



John could be seen near the end of the street, his 

HORSE STILL RACING MADLY FORWARD. — Page 231. 




















































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THE HORSEMAN 


231 


his horse now, and Jack is still on his back!” 
Scott shouted. “Come on ! Come on !” he added 
hastily, as the gates began to rise again. “We 
must take after him and find out!” 

To the impatient boys it almost seemed as if 
the gateman was purposely delaying his efforts, 
but as soon as there was a sufficient opening to 
enable them to pass, the boys instantly pressed 
forward, not even waiting to perceive whether or 
not other trains might be approaching. John 
could be seen near the end of the street, his horse 
still racing madly forward, but apparently their 
friend was able to maintain his seat. Then the 
horse once more swerved to the left and quickly 
disappeared from sight. 

In a brief time Lee and Scott had also turned the 
corner, and just in time to discover John and his 
steed a block away, already turning into a street to 
the right. Urging their own horses forward, Lee 
and Scott still followed, and soon were able to 
perceive before them the madly racing horse, with 
John still seated upon its back. 

There was a low hill before them now, and then 
a high bridge, beneath which a train was thunder- 
ing past, and then an incline on the opposite side, 
and once more a level stretch along a street which 


232 FOUR BOYS IN LAND OF COTTON 


contained only a few houses. Unmindful of all 
save their desire to overtake and rescue their 
companion, Lee and Scott followed swiftly, but 
the distance between them and John was not les- 
sened, with all their efforts to increase the speed 
of their horses. They were soon in the very 
outskirts of the city, and when John’s horse 
suddenly turned into another street or road, and 
still maintained its swift pace, the fears of Lee and 
Scott increased. There was nothing to be done 
except to follow, and both boys pressed steadily 
forward. 

As they entered what seemed to be a country 
road, Lee suddenly exclaimed : “He has stopped, 
sir ! That’s Jack’s horse up yonder, as sure as 
you’re born!” 

“And that is Jack standing beside him, if I am 
not mistaken !” responded Scott. 

There was no delay for further expressions, and 
in a brief time the two boys came to the place 
where John was standing near the road-side fence, 
holding his horse by the bridle. His face was as 
wet as the flanks of the trembling horse, which was 
breathing heavily, and occasionally pawing with 
one of its feet, or nervously pretending to nibble 
at the near-by bushes. 


THE HORSEMAN 


233 


“Hurt, Jack?” demanded Lee, eagerly, as he 
leaped from his seat, and leading his horse rushed 
to the place where John was standing. 

“Not a bit,” responded John. 

“That was a close call, old man,” said Scott, with 
a sigh of relief. 

“It was that! I thought back there at that 
crossing that I was fated.” 

“ So did we ! ” exclaimed Lee. “ I haven’t 
drawn a full breath yet.” 

“Well, do it now, Lee. It’s all over,” said 
John, quietly. 

“How did it happen, Jack? What started 
your horse?” inquired Scott. 

“I haven’t the least idea,” responded John. 
“The first I knew, he was going at full speed, the 
rein had been yanked out of my hand, and some- 
how, was over in front of the horse’s head. We 
must be going back now, I’m ready for my break- 
fast.” 

“Going to walk, Jack?” said Scott. 

“'Walk!’ No. What do you think I have 
this horse for?” As he spoke, John led the 
animal, which was still trembling, to the side 
of the rail fence, and climbed upon its back once 


more. 


234 FOUR BOYS IN LAND OF COTTON 


“You’re true blue, Jack,” said Scott, approv- 
ingly. 

Lee, however, was more anxious, and said: 
“We’ll keep together, boys, so that we can get a 
grip on Jack’s bridle-rein if he loses it again. 
We’ll ride slowly, too ; I say, fellows, you all look 
out yonder. Do you see those mounds ? They’re 
about all that is left of the earthworks that were 
thrown up around Richmond when your man 
Grant was ‘ hammering away,’ as he called it, at 
the town.” 

John and Scott, interested in spite of their 
recent excitement, looked at the remains of what 
a generation before had been a part of the de- 
fences of Richmond; but apparently there was 
no desire for questioning, and in a brief time all 
three boys were on their way back to their hotel. 
John, apparently, was the least excited of the 
trio, and at last he said, “I say, fellows, do you 
know what I was thinking of when I led this race 
this morning?” 

“Your sins,” remarked Scott, dryly. 

“Perhaps,” acknowledged John, “and yet I 
never took my eyes from the road in front of me. 
And do you know, I couldn’t keep out of my 
mind some of the expressions I saw the other 


THE HORSEMAN 235 

day, about eyes that had been taken from some 
of the recent novels.” 

“‘ Eyes' taken from the novels, Jack?” laughed 
Scott. 

“No; expressions about the eyes of the hero or 
the heroine,” replied John. “Just listen to them, 
and every one is just as it was in the book, too. 
‘His trained eyes took in every detail.’ ‘She 
permitted her eyes to rest upon the ceiling for one 
brief moment, and then they roamed carelessly 
about the room.’ ‘Fixing her eyes upon his 
scornful face, she laughed aloud.’ ‘With her 
eyes she riveted him to the spot.’ ‘He was 
rooted to the spot by her scorn-filled eyes.’ ‘Her 
eyes slowly followed his departing form as he 
disappeared o’er the distant hilltop.’ Queer, 
what things one’s eyes will do, isn’t it?” added 
John, laughingly. 

“Were your eyes ‘fixed,’ ‘glued,’ ‘riveted,’ or 
‘rooted,’ Jack?” asked Lee. 

“All four, I think,” replied John. “I couldn’t 
look up or turn my head, anyway. We must be 
pretty near the hotel, aren’t we?” 

“I don’t see how you can have any appetite 
left,” suggested Lee. 

“Wait and watch — who’s that standing there 


236 FOUR BOYS IN LAND OF COTTON 


on the street in front of the hotel?” John sud- 
denly added. 

His companions glanced in the direction John 
had indicated, and in a moment Lee had raised a 
shout that could have been heard a block away. 


CHAPTER XIX 


THE CAPITAL OF THE CONFEDERACY 

Larcum, who had been waiting aimlessly in 
front of the hotel, not knowing where his friends 
had gone or when they would return, responded 
in kind to the greetings of the boys, and as soon 
as they were prepared to enter the dining room, 
went with them and took his seat at their table. 

“Didn’t you have your breakfast, Larc?” 
inquired John, as he began to inspect the bill of 
fare. 

“I had a bite,” replied Larcum, soberly. “I 
couldn’t find out at the desk what you were doing, 
and I thought, of course, you wouldn’t start off, 
perhaps for the day, without having breakfast, 
so I decided I’d better prepare for emergencies.” 

“What did you have for your ‘bite,’ Larc?” 
asked Scott, who also was scanning the card with 
interest. 

“Oh, nothing much: I had an omelet, a beef- 
steak, some fried potatoes, some hot muffins, 
237 


238 FOUR BOYS IN LAND OF COTTON 


griddle-cakes — oh, I had a few berries, too, I 
believe.” 

“You’ll never bear up, Larc, till noon on such 
fairy-like diet as that.” 

“Better let me give an order for you, too,” said 
Scott. 

“Thank you, I don’t mind,” responded Larcum, 
soberly. “It will be a bit pleasanter, perhaps, if 
I do join you. I don’t want much, though. 
Just order some fish, some boiled rice, some more 
of those hot muffins, and I think I’ll have another 
plate of those griddle-cakes, too. They were fine, 
and I’m not in ‘training’ now, you know. But 
I don’t want much.” 

“What do you have for breakfast, Larc, when 
you are real hungry?” asked John. 

“A good square meal. It isn’t good for a fellow 
to eat very much when he is travelling, so that’s 
all I’ll have this morning, thank you.” 

“Larc, do you know that more people die 
every day from the effects of overeating than 
die from starvation?” inquired Scott. 

“So I’ve heard,” said Larcum, glibly. “That’s 
what makes me careful.” 

The huge tackle’s friends laughed, but as 
their breakfast was now all before them, for 


CAPITAL OF THE CONFEDERACY 239 


a time they were all s6 busy that conversation 
lagged. 

“By the way, Larc,” said Scott, when the four 
boys arose to depart from the dining room, 
“you found your trunk, didn’t you?” 

Larcum’s face suddenly clouded, and he said, 
“I think it will be all right. They have word of 
it, and will send it on to Memphis. I’ll find it 
there when we arrive, I haven’t any doubt.” 

His manner betrayed some suspicion, and quick 
to perceive it, Scott said, banteringly, “I was 
half afraid we’d have to go back to Old Point 
to get you out of the hands of the police, Larc. 
Did you have any more trouble?” 

“I’m all right,” declared Larcum, shortly. 

“But did you have any more trouble?” per- 
sisted Scott. 

“Did you notice anything wrong with my 
appetite?” retorted Larcum* “Did I act as if 
I had anything on my mind?” 

“Yes, that’s all right,” acknowledged Scott, 
“but did the burglar appear to claim his kit — - 
likewise his trunk ? That’s what I want to know. 
I don’t want to go on and be all the time in fear 
that there’ll be a detective following us, and the 
first thing we know our party will be broken up. 


240 FOUR BOYS IN LAND OF COTTON 


That would not be conducive to excessive hilarity, 
or even to a commensurate exhilaration, as my 
friend from Boston would very likely express it.” 

“ Never mind, Scott,” said John, as he winked 
slyly at his friend, “Larc isn’t in a very good 
frame of mind this morning, and it isn’t quite fair 
to—” 

“Well, I didn’t go out to see this equestrian 
statue of General Lee, and then try to do a heroic 
act on horseback. Somehow, these fellows from 
Boston are never satisfied unless they have a 
crowd staring at them. Lee tells me, Jack, that 
you certainly startled the natives this morning, 
and everybody — even the little pickaninnies — 
stopped on the street and smiled their approval.” 

“What did you tell him about that for, Lee?” 
demanded John, laughingly, as he glanced in pre- 
tended reproach at his friend. “No, it wasn’t 
admiration I was seeking this morning. It was 
‘the poetry of motion.’” 

“I don’t thinkhe found it, then, do you, Scott ?” 
demanded Lee. 

“Not enough of it to alarm any one,” replied 
Scott, soberly. “There was plenty of motion, 
such as it was, though. If Jack could only have 
seen himself when he started, with his knees 


CAPITAL OF THE CONFEDERACY 241 


drawn almost up to his chin, and about two feet 
between his body and the saddle showing plainly 
with every jump that horse made. It may have 
been the poetry of motion — but to me it looked 
a good deal more as if Jack was riding a night- 
mare.^ 

“I was so frightened that I thought we’d seen 
the last of Jack/’ said Scott, “but I had presence 
of mind enough to get out my camera, and I 
snapped him once, when he looked as if he had 
started skyward, there was so much space between 
him and the horse he had been riding.” 

“Scott, did you do that?” demanded John. 

“I surely did. I’m going to have the picture 
enlarged, too, and framed ; then I’ll send it home to 
John Adams Field the senior, just to show him how 
fond his son is of ‘the poetry of motion.’” 

It was worse than useless, as John was aware, 
to protest, so, striving to appear indifferent, he 
said, “Well, even if I did keep on, my watch 
stopped, anyway.” 

“Your watch had a chain on it, didn’t it?” 
inquired Lee. 

“Yes — what had that to do with it?” 

“Of course the watch couldn’t go if it was 
chained, could it?” retorted Lee. 


242 FOUR BOYS IN LAND OF COTTON 


A silence followed, and in pretended sorrow the 
boys did not glance at Lee. The young Southerner, 
however, was unabashed, and soon said, “Did you 
all notice that man who just passed us?” 

“Not particularly,” replied Scott, as he turned, 
as did John and Larcum also, to look at the tall, 
dark man who had greeted them a moment 
before. 

“That man has made more men ‘ swing ’ than 
any other individual in the whole state of Vir- 
ginia,” declared Lee. 

“What is he — a hangman?” inquired John, as 
he glanced again at the stranger. 

“He’s probably the sheriff,” suggested Larcum. 

“He manufactures hammocks,” explained Lee, 
soberly. 

“Fellows, I can’t stand this,” said Larcum. 
“Here we are starting out before breakfast to see 
the sights — ” 

“‘ Before breakfast,’ Larc?” interrupted Lee. 

“That’s what I said, didn’t I?” retorted Lar- 
cum. “We haven’t had breakfast yet, have we? 
I’m hungry — ” 

The laughter of the boys caused Larcum to 
turn and look at them reprovingly, but before 
he could speak again, Lee said quickly, “There’s 


CAPITAL OF THE CONFEDERACY 243 

the capitol of Virginia, sir ! Isn't that a beau- 
tiful building?" 

The three comrades of Lee had entered the 
grounds upon which the capitol of the Old Domin- 
ion was located, but as not one of them had ever 
been in the city before, they naturally had not 
been aware of Lee’s purpose. On the shaded 
lawns and across the well-kept walks hundreds of 
gray squirrels could be seen darting in every 
direction, and apparently the active little animals 
had no fear of the passing people. Statues were 
to be seen, and against the green background of 
the trees and lawns the forms assumed an impres- 
siveness that all the boys felt. Lee’s pride in 
what his friends were about to see was so marked 
that the boys smiled in sympathy. 

1 1 Who are these gentlemen in stone and bronze ? ’’ 
inquired Scott. “That man over there, so far as 
the attitude of the horse upon which he is mounted 
is concerned, reminds me of Jack, this morning; 
but this gentleman does not appear to be quite 
so nervous, nor is he as far removed from his sad- 
dle as Jack was, at times. Is this gentleman one 
who belonged to the first families of Virginia?’’ 

“ Come on, and you will see,’’ replied Lee. 
As the boys followed him until the impulsive 


244 FOUR BOYS IN LAND OF COTTON 


young leader halted directly in front of the monu- 
ment — one of the finest in the entire country — 
not one of them required any explanation, for 
the beautiful statue was that of Washington. 

“One of the first families of Virginia,” declared 
Lee, triumphantly. 

“One of the first of the United States — of the 
world ! ’ ’ said Scott, warmly. Then, turning quickly 
to Lee, he said, “Are there any statues here of men 
who didn’t five in Virginia?” 

“Why, I don’t know. I hadn’t thought,” said 
Lee; then quickly he added, “but you see, we 
don’t have to go outside Virginia for our great 
men.” 

“Now, Lee,” demanded John, in mock reproach, 
“don’t you honestly think that is a trifle pro- 
vincial? I’m not saying you haven’t had some 
good men ; you have, and the whole world knows 
it. But why do you limit your hero-worship just 
to Virginians? In Boston we have statues of 
Washington, Franklin, Lafayette — ” 

“There’s the statue of Stonewall Jackson,” 
broke in Lee, as the boys stopped before a bronze 
statue of the great-hearted general. “Isn’t that 
as good a£ Boston?” 

“It is very good, very good indeed,” acknowl- 


CAPITAL OF THE CONFEDERACY 245 

edged John, and even Lee joined in the laugh 
with which Scott and Larcum greeted the serious 
words of their friend. 

“I like that capitol building,” said Scott, as he 
pointed toward the stately pile. “Of course it 
doesn’t compare with Albany — ” 

The boys interrupted their friend with a shout, 
and John said, “What do you say, fellows? 
Shall we have a prize of five dollars offered for 
the one who can get through a sentence without 
claiming that the place in which he lives, or his 
State, is the best in the country ? ” 

“ I’m afraid there wouldn’t be any one to 
take it,” said Lee. “But I know that a great 
many people say that building is a very pretty 
one.” 

“It is not ‘pretty’; it is imposing, beautiful, 
historic, a heritage of former generations. Those 
fine pillars in front are Doric, are they not?” 
said John. 

“They look to me as if they were wood; I 
thought at first they were stone, but they are 
wood — What are you fellows laughing at?” 
Larcum, who was talking, turned sharply and 
almost angrily faced his companions. 

“I want you to see Houdon’s statue of Washing- 


246 FOUR BOYS IN LAND OF COTTON 


ton,” said Lee, quickly. “It stands right in the 
centre hall of the building. Come on.” 

Larcum’s anger had disappeared, and the boys 
at once entered the building, where their interest, 
not only in the imposing statue concerning which 
Lee had spoken, but also in the other interesting 
sight which greeted them, was great. They 
walked through the halls and chambers and 
listened eagerly to the descriptions of men, 
events, and places, of which Lee never tired. 
John’s interest was keenest in an immense paint- 
ing, “Storming the Redoubt at Yorktown,” 
in which it was said the portraits of many of the 
men who had shared in that great battle were 
presented true to life. 

After the inspection of the capitol,Lee conducted 
his companions to the State Library, where many 
portraits of Virginia’s favorite sons, as well as nu- 
merous relics of the Civil War, were on exhibition. 
The interest displayed by his friends served to 
increase the enthusiasm of the young Southerner, 
and his knowledge of all that pertained to the 
heroes of his own State was impressive, even to the 
more sedate John. 

However, the young Bostonian was unable to 
give unmodified praise, and as the party departed 


CAPITAL OF THE CONFEDERACY 247 


from the grounds he said, “Lee, it is all great. I 
have enjoyed every minute this morning. But 
there are two things I don’t understand.” 

‘ ‘ Only two ? What are they ? 3 3 

“One is, why you people don’t honor some of the 
men who didn’t happen to be born in Virginia — ” 

“John Adams, for example?” interrupted Lee, 
with a light laugh. 

“Yes, John Adams,” retorted John, “and a good 
many others, too. What I mean is that every- 
thing seems to centre in the Civil War, and you 
don’t appear to make much of the Revolution, for 
instance. Now, Virginia did considerable in the 
Revolution — ” 

“Did she?” laughed Lee. 

“Yes. There was Patrick Henry — ” 

“Do you want to see the place where he made 
his great speech?” inquired Lee, quickly. “I’ll 
take you to it. The Virginia convention was 
meeting in old St. John’s, and it was there that 
Pat—” 

“ Why do you call him ‘ Pat ’ ? You ought to be 
more respectful, Lee. Patrick Henry was a great 
man,” said Scott, soberly. 

“We know it,” acknowledged Lee. “He has 
always been a great favorite of mine. You see, 


248 FOUR BOYS IN LAND OF COTTON 


he didn’t do very well in school, and he tried two 
or three lines of work after he left school, and didn’t 
make much of a success of any of them. Then all 
at once he showed what a great man he really was. 
Somehow, though, I can’t seem to make my father 
see it like I do.” 

From St. John’s the party went to St. Paul’s, 
where Lee explained that “ President Jefferson 
Davis received the news of the fall of Petersburg.” 

“Why did he go there to receive it?” inquired 
Scott, demurely. “I should think there were 
plenty of other places where he might have heard 
it just as well.” 

“He was attending service in the church at the 
time,” said Lee, soberly. “My father says that 
President Davis was one of the most devout, 
tender-hearted men he ever knew. The little 
children loved him, and what he suffered, no man 
can ever know.” 

The boys were silent as they entered the beau- 
tiful edifice, and when at last they came out upon 
the street, Larcum said, eagerly, “It’s time for 
luncheon, fellows. Not having had my breakfast, 
I feel hungry. And then, as I didn’t sleep more 
than nine hours last night, my feeble frame de- 
mands restoration.” 


CAPITAL OF THE CONFEDERACY 249 


No objection was made to Larcum’s appeal, and 
as the boys started toward the hotel, John and 
Scott, who were walking together, were conversing 
eagerly. The frequent glances they bestowed 
upon the big Larcum might have made that 
member of the party somewhat uneasy had he 
perceived them. As it was, it was not until after 
the boys had returned to the hotel that Larcum 
became aware of his friends' designs upon him. 


CHAPTER XX 


TELEGRAMS 

Scott and John had withdrawn from their 
companions immediately after the party had 
entered the building, the former going to the 
telegraph office, and the latter to the writing room. 
In a brief time Scott rejoined his friend, and glanc- 
ing about him to make certain that he was not 
observed, he drew from his pocket a telegraph 
blank, and also an envelope with the name of the 
company printed upon it. 

“ There, John,” whispered Scott, “there’s the 
blank. I’ve done my part in getting it, and you’ll 
have to do the filling.” 

“That’s all right, Scott. I know just what to 
say.” John wrote quickly on the blank, and 
then, looking up at his friend, said, “How will 
that do?” 

Scott took the telegram and read aloud : — 

Old Point Comfort, Virginia, July 14. 

All has been discovered. The guilty party is being 
followed. Police are vigilant. Be on your guard. 

[Signed] One Who Knows. 

250 


TELEGRAMS 


251 


" Shall we mark it 'paid 7 or 'collect 7 ?” inquired 
John. 

"Oh, 'paid , 7 77 replied Scott, hastily. "Now 
direct the envelope, Jack . 77 

" 7 Tis done , 77 said John, promptly, as he obeyed 
his friend. "What next ? 77 

"The next thing will be to see our waiter. He 
must bring that telegram to Larc while we are 
at luncheon . 77 

"That 7 s it , 77 laughed John. "Will you see to 
that ? We mustn 7 t be seen together any more, 
or we 7 ll have trouble . 77 

"No one has seen us , 77 declared Scott. "Yes, 
HI see the waiter, and have a table reserved for 
us. Now, Jack, you must keep a sober face when 
that telegram is delivered. If Larc suspects us, 
we 7 ll have troubles of our own . 77 

" He won 7 t suspect anything. The only trouble 
will be that we have put more than ten words in 
the message. Larc is a business man now, and 
he won 7 t like that part of it . 77 

"Can 7 t we boil it down ? 77 

"That will go all right , 77 asserted John, con- 
fidently, as he arose and departed from the room. 

When, a half hour later, Scott and John returned 
to the lobby, they found Lee and Larcum impa- 


252 FOUR BOYS IN LAND OF COTTON 


tiently awaiting their coming, and the four boys 
at once entered the dining room ; and, without the 
suspicions of Larcum or Lee being aroused, they 
were at once conducted to the table which 
had been reserved for them. Their orders were 
speedily given the waiter, whose dignity did not 
appear to be in the least ruffled by the knowl- 
edge of the part he was to take in the delivery 
of the “telegram”; and after he had placed the 
dishes before the guests he stood as motionless as 
the famous statue of Washington, by Houdon, in 
the capitol of Virginia. 

At last, when the luncheon was near its close, he 
suddenly started toward the door as if he had 
been summoned by the head waiter, and in a brief 
time returned, with the telegram in his hand. 

“Is that foh yo’, suh ? ” he inquired, respectfully, 
as he held out the envelope for John’s inspection. 

John received the missive in an indifferent 
manner, and as soon as he had read the address 
on the envelope, he said, “No, that’s not for me. 
It’s for you, Larc,” he added, as he handed the 
“telegram” to his friend. 

Larcum hastily tore open the envelope, and 
without glancing at his friends, read the message. 
For a moment he stared blankly at it, and then, 


TELEGRAMS 


253 


without a word of explanation, thrust the yellow 
slip into his pocket and resumed his task. 

“No bad news, Larc?” inquired Lee. 

“No,” responded Larcum. 

“It's probably from the president of the road,” 
suggested Scott, soberly. “He has just heard that 
a great business man has arrived in Richmond, and 
he wants to do the honors. Isn’t that it, Larc?” 

“I can’t explain to you, fellows,” replied Lar- 
cum. “When a man is in business, at a salary of 
six per, he can’t explain all he knows.” 

“As long as it doesn’t interfere with our plans, 
and Larc hasn’t received any bad news, I’m satis- 
fied,” suggested Lee, lightly. 

“Lee, are there many clubs in Richmond?” 
inquired Larcum, thoughtfully. 

“Why, yes. Some fine clubs. I didn’t think 
you all would care — ” 

“I don’t care,” interrupted Larcum. “It 
isn’t for myself I’m asking, but I thought Jack 
and Scott might like to join one.” 

“Hardly,” laughed Lee. “Which club do you 
refer to, sir?” 

“Didn’t I hear there was a club in Richmond 
which had for its motto, ‘It is a noble art to be 
able to attend to one’s own affairs’ ?” 


254 FOUR BOYS IN LAND OF COTTON 


“ I never heard of it,” responded Lee, puzzled 
somewhat, as he glanced first at the sober coun- 
tenance of Larcum and then at the no less serious 
faces of his other friends. 

“ Might be a good plan to organize one, then,” 
suggested Larcum, as he rose from the table. “I 
propose the gentleman from Boston and his friend 
from New York as charter members.” 

“ Where are you going, Larc?” asked Scott, as 
his friend turned toward the telegraph office 
when the four boys came out into the lobby. 

U 1 have to wire an answer to my message,” 
replied Larcum, quietly. “I’ll be with you in a 
moment. Don’t wait for me.” 

“Come on, Larc !” called Scott, quickly. “You 
can attend to that when we come back ; we haven’t 
any time to waste now.” 

“No, sir!” responded Larcum, firmly. “I’m 
a business man, as I may have remarked, and I 
have just one rule in life now: 'Do it now !’ I’ll 
be with you soon.” 

John and Scott glanced meaningly at each other, 
and watched their friend as he leaned over the 
desk for a brief conversation with the operator. 
In a moment he took a blank and wrote upon 
it, and then handed the paper, with a coin, 


TELEGRAMS 255 

to the young woman who had charge of the 
office. 

“You didn’t have to wait for me, fellows,” 
Larcum said, in apparent surprise, as he turned 
and beheld Scott and John. “I’m sorry to have 
kept you waiting, but ‘ business is business,’ 
you know. I’m at your service now. Where’s 
Lee?” 

“He has gone to order a carriage,” replied John. 

“Ah, we are not to walk, then,” said Larcum, in 
relief. “Here’s Lee now.” 

“The carriage is ready, boys,” called Lee, as he 
started toward his companions. 

“So are we,” responded Scott. “Larc, here, had 
to send a message, but we’re all ready now. It’s 
a great responsibility to be a business man,” 
Scott added, with a sigh, as he gazed solemnly at 
his stalwart friend. 

“Especially at six per,” retorted Larcum. 
“Come on!” 

The boys at once went out upon the street and 
entered the carriage, and then, at a word from 
Lee, the driver turned first into some of the more 
attractive streets of residence in Richmond. 
Many of these were very beautiful, and the air of 
mingled comfort and refinement that was to be 


256 FOUR BOYS IN LAND OF COTTON 


seen on every side impressed strongly even the 
self-satisfied John. 

“This is all fine, Lee,” he declared, soberly. 
“I like it very much indeed. The only thing that 
impresses me, or at least impresses me most 
strongly, is how different the life and the homes 
here are from what one sees in Boston.” 

“Do you mean that Boston is different from 
Richmond, or Richmond from Boston?” asked 
Lee. 

“It’s different here from Boston,” said John, 
soberly, and even when his friends shouted in 
their delight, he turned and looked at them as if 
the source of their noisy demonstration was un- 
known to him. 

From the residential part of the city the drive 
was extended into the business sections, and the 
ironworks, the immense warehouses where tobacco 
was stored, and the general aspect of busy-ness, 
were all alike impressive. 

“Now, I’ll show you a bit more of the special 
points of interest,” declared Lee, as he gave some 
directions to the driver. The view from Gamble’s 
Hill, the Confederate Soldiers’ Home, several of 
the parks, General Lee’s residence, the Jefferson 
Davis mansion, the tomb of Chief Justice Marshall, 


TELEGRAMS 


257 


and the ride through Hollywood Cemetery, where 
were buried not only the bodies of men who had 
been famous in the history of the nation, but also 
many of those who had fallen in the great struggle 
between the North and South, were all seen. Lee 
pointed out the places where were lying the 
bodies of President Monroe, President Tyler, Gen- 
eral Hill, General Pickett, John Randolph of 
Roanoke, and of many others famed and honored 
by the people of the state. The intimate knowl- 
edge which Lee displayed of all the places and 
men were more impressive to his friends than 
were even the sights they saw. 

“Lee,” said Scott, soberly, “you know all 
about the history of Virginia, don’t you?” 

“I know a little about it that’s all,” responded 
Lee, lightly. 

“You know a good deal,” declared Scott, 
positively. “And that’s the way it ought to be, 
too. When Jack stopped in New York a day or 
two with me, I worked up a lot of things I wanted 
to show him, but I’m afraid I’ve forgotten a 
good deal of it already. Who was the greatest 
Virginian, Lee?” he added, abruptly. 

“Washington or Lee,” replied Lee, promptly. 

“But which?” persisted Scott. 


258 FOUR BOYS IN LAND OF COTTON 


“ Washington won, and Lee failed,” suggested 
John. 

“That has nothing to do about it,” retorted Lee, 
warmly. “Some men are greater in defeat than 
others are in success. Why, even at Gettysburg, 
General Lee would have been successful if 
it hadn’t been for some insurmountable ob- 
stacles.” 

“That’s so,” acknowledged John, dryly. “I 
know one 1 obstacle,’ as you call it, that did seem 
to be in the way of General Lee’s success.” 

“What was that?” demanded Lee. 

“Meade’s army.” 

Lee’s face flushed as Larcum threw back his 
head and laughed boisterously. 

“Washington lost more battles than he won,” 
Lee said. “You can’t always tell just by the out- 
come how great a man was. Napoleon went down 
at last, but there isn’t any one who doesn’t think 
he was a great soldier.” 

“You’re right, Lee,” said John, cordially, “and 
every man that knows, North or South, believes 
Robert E. Lee was a man to be proud of.” 

“He was more than that,” declared Lee, hotly. 

“Yes, he was more than that,” acknowledged 
John. “And you can’t shut him up in Virginia, 


TELEGRAMS 


259 


either. He belongs to us all. And the way you 
people down here made our men run in the be- 
ginning of the war was — well, not exactly to 
our credit, or the way it had been planned. It 
did take more than sixty, or even ninety days, to 
settle the matter. I was reading just a little 
while ago of an Irishman who was on the Northern 
side in the first battle of Bull Run. Somebody 
the other day was poking fun at him for the part 
he took, and said to him, ‘ Pat, I suppose you were 
in the fight at Bull Run, weren’t you?’ ‘Oi 
was that,’ Pat declared, promptly. ‘ And I suppose 
you ran away, didn’t you?’ asked the man. 
‘Yis, sorr, I did that. Thim that didn’t, arre 
there yit,’ the Irishman answered.” 

As the boys laughed, Lee’s good nature appar- 
ently was restored, and he said, “We think Thomas 
Jefferson was a great man, too.” 

“Because John Adams let him write the declara- 
tion of independence?” said John. 

“‘Let’ him! ‘Let’ him! Why, man, John 
Adams begged him to write it. John knew he 
couldn’t do it, so he got some one to do it for 
him.” 

“You’re mistaken, Lee,” declared John, calmly. 
“John Adams wanted to keep the colonies to- 


260 FOUR BOYS IN LAND OF COTTON 


gether, and he was the man who selected Wash- 
ington as commander-in-chief, and let Jefferson 
write the declaration. He wanted to give every- 
body something to do, you see. Besides, John 
Adams went over Jefferson’s writing very carefully, 
and made a great many changes and corrections.” 

“He did, did he ?” retorted Lee. “Well, he isn’t 
the first man from Boston who has thought he 
could improve the general plan of the universe ! ” 

Larcum and Scott shouted in their delight, 
but John’s manner was not ruffled in the slightest 
as he said : “No one denies that Thomas Jefferson 
was a good man, and perhaps he really was a 
quarter as big as he thought he was — or as you 
people have come to think he was. His reputation 
is like a snowball — every time you roll it over it 
gets bigger. But compared with Alexander Ham- 
ilton — ” 

“Hamilton ! Alexander Hamilton !” interrupted 
Lee, shortly. “Why, man, don’t you know that if 
he had had his way, we would be having a king- 
dom and a king in America to-day instead of a 
republic, like what we’ve got ?” 

“I’m not sure that is so at all,” retorted John, 
calmly. “But see how it works in your way. 
Every State can pass any laws it sees fit, no matter 


TELEGRAMS 


261 


how much they may interfere with the rights of 
people in other States/ ’ 

“Not at all, sir. Jefferson’s idea was to let 
the people themselves do their own ruling. He 
believed that men should be left free, and that 
the best governed were those who were least 
governed. He didn’t believe in any power to 
interfere — ” 

“You fellows are certainly both too narrow,” 
broke in Larcum, to the surprise of all. “You 
ought to come out West, where a picayune little 
hill or a bay doesn’t shut out the sight of every- 
thing outside your own little circle. What is 
the name of that force that holds the earth to 
the sun?” 

“You mean the centripetal, I fancy,” suggested 
Scott. 

“Yes, that’s it. And what’s the name of that 
other one — that sends the earth away from the 
sun?” 

“The centrifugal?” said Scott. 

“You’re right again. Well, that’s the way it 
was with Jefferson and Hamilton. We need both.” 

“Good for you, Larc!” shouted Lee and John 
together, and with good nature restored, the 
boys returned to the hotel. 


262 FOUR BOYS IN LAND OF COTTON 


To the surprise of his friends, Larcum at once 
proceeded to the telegraph office, and in response to 
his query as to whether or not a reply had been 
received to his message, he was handed a small 
envelope. Hastily tearing it open, he ignored 
the manifest interest of John and Scott, and after 
he had read the contents he looked up and said, 
dryly, “ We’ll have to make a change in our plans, 
boys.” 


CHAPTER XXI 


LOOKOUT MOUNTAIN 

For a moment John stared blankly at Scott. 
Their “joke” on their friend threatened to react 
upon themselves, and the calm manner in which 
Larcum assured them that his telegram was in 
response to the one he had sent after he had 
received his “important message” in the dining 
room, was decidedly perplexing. 

“‘ Change/ Larc. What do you mean?” in- 
quired Scott. 

“I mean I'll have to alter my plan,” replied 
Larcum, soberly. “Of course it doesn't mean 
that you fellows will have to change yours.” 

“Of course not,” said John. “What we came 
down here for was just to let every one go his own 
way. No need of keeping together.” 

Lee, who as yet knew nothing of the cause of 
the disturbance, turned to Larcum and said: 
“Let us see your telegram. Perhaps we all can 
help.” 


263 


264 FOUR BOYS IN LAND OF COTTON 

“ I can’t reveal business secrets/’ declared 
Larcum. “ Nobody knows what a responsibility 
it is to be engaged in great matters. I don’t 
mind telling you, though, that I am compelled to 
go to Nashville.” 

“Is that all!” exclaimed John. “Why, Nash- 
ville is right on our way, and we shan’t have to 
break up at all. We’ll all go with Larc, and it 
will be all the better, for we’ll see just so much 
more. I was afraid at first that Larc had received 
some word about that trunk of his. You really 
did have a trunk, didn’t you, Larc?” 

But Larcum did not respond, and the boys at 
once began to make their plans for their depart- 
ure from Richmond. Fortunately, they were 
able to secure sections on the train that left that 
evening, and as they were somewhat wearied by 
their activities of the day, it was not long before 
all sought their beds and were soundly sleeping. 

When they awoke in the morning, John, who 
was the first to dress, hastily summoned his com- 
panions to join him in looking at the mountains 
through which they were passing. 

“These are the Smoky Mountains,” he declared, 
as he pointed at the lofty heights which could be 
seen from the windows of the car. 


LOOKOUT MOUNTAIN 


265 


“Are we in Tennessee now?” inquired Scott. 

“Yes, the porter said we were,” replied 
John. 

“I am glad to hear it,” said Scott, soberly. 
“I wanted to see them. Perhaps you have heard 
of what Governor ‘ Bob ’ Taylor said about these 
Tennessee hills. He must have been just like 
every one of us,” Scott added, laughingly, “for he 
believed that the place where he lived was the best 
on earth.” 

“What did he say about these mountains, 
Scott?” demanded John. “You don’t always 
stick to your text.” 

“What he said was that the mountains of 
Tennessee were so high that a man could stand 
on the top of them and tickle the toes of the 
angels.” 

“I don’t think I believe that,” declared John, 
soberly, ignoring the laughter with which his 
companions had greeted Scott’s quotation. 

“Why not?” inquired Lee. 

“Well, for one thing it doesn’t seem reasonable 
to me that the angels, if they came from any other 
part of the universe, would stay here long enough 
to suffer any such indignities, and if by any chance 
they came from this part of the country — But 


266 FOUR BOYS IN LAND OF COTTON 


that is too great a strain on the imagination, any- 
way,” he added. “One can’t, by the wildest flight 
of his imagination, conceive of angels from Ten- 
nessee.” 

“How about Boston?” asked Lee. 

“ That’s a different matter altogether. It 
wouldn’t be difficult to think of some of these folk 
here wanting to go to Boston, but — ” 

“Come on!” broke in Larcum. “‘Breakfast 
is now being served in the dining car!’ Didn’t 
you hear the fog-horn voice of the colored indi- 
vidual?” 

“All right. We’re ready,” declared Scott, and 
the boys at once passed through the cars to 
the rear of the train, where breakfast was indeed 
being served. Securing a table at which all 
four could be seated, the boys peered through the 
windows, gazing with interest at the great hills, 
the occasional cabins, and the scattered hamlets 
through which they were passing. 

Just as their breakfast was placed upon the 
table, a tall man entered the car and seated him- 
self at the small table across the aisle. In a 
moment another man, almost the counterpart 
in height, whiskers, and bearing, of the one already 
seated, entered and took the unoccupied seat 


LOOKOUT MOUNTAIN 


267 


facing the man. John was quietly watching the 
two, and when one of them respectfully said to 
his table companion, “Mawnin’, Jedge,” and the 
other man, in almost the very tones in which he 
had been addressed, responded, “Mawnin’, Jedge,” 
the young Bostonian turned to Lee, who was seated 
beside him, and inquired, “Is every man in Ten- 
nessee a judge, Lee?” 

“ I reckon so,” laughed Lee, in response. 
“When we all get over into Arkansas, we’ll find 
about every man is a ‘ captain, ’ and in Kentucky 
we’ll hear ‘ colonel’ when a gentleman greets 
his friends.” 

“Why do they do it, Lee?” 

“ ‘Why do they do it?’ I reckon it’s because 
it’s the right thing.” 

“We don’t do that in Boston. Why, Lee, even 
the president of Harvard is spoken of and spoken 
to as Mister. I like it.” 

“You’re welcome to do just as you like, sir,” 
said Lee. 

“Did you ever hear about the ‘army’ Artemus 
Ward was going to raise?” 

“Can’t say I did.” 

“Well, he said he was going to have an army, 
and in order to make every man in it satisfied, 


268 FOUR BOYS IN LAND OF COTTON 


he was going to have every one made a brigadier- 
general.” 

“That beats Arkansas and Kentucky, and almost 
comes up to Tennessee/’ said Lee. The boys were 
by this time busily engaged, and conversation 
flagged for a time. The sparsely settled country 
through which they were passing, the numbers 
of negroes that could be seen, the forlorn ap- 
pearance of the neglected, weather-beaten little 
cabins, the general air of indifference that somehow 
seemed to be a part of the region, were apparent 
to all, but no one spoke of his impressions. 

Scott was the first to break in upon the silence 
and turning to Larcum, he said, “We have to 
change cars at Chattanooga, don’t we?” 

“/ do,” responded Larcum, without pausing in 
his occupation. “If you fellows go on with me 
to Nashville, you’ll have to change, too.” 

“We shan’t leave you, Larc,” retorted Scott, 
with a laugh, “but it seems to me that it would 
be a fine thing, since we have to stop in Chatta- 
nooga, anyway, to rest over a day, and go out to 
Lookout Mountain and Missionary Ridge.” 

“What are they, Scott?” said Larcum, still 
without glancing at his friend. 

“Why, they are the places where some great 


LOOKOUT MOUNTAIN 


269 


battles were fought in the Civil War. You don't 
mean to say that you don’t know about them.” 

“I mean to say I’m a business man, at six per, 
and when I leave my office I have no time to read 
about ravages and monuments and such things. 
You tell me, Scott. What was it about Lookout 
Ridge?” 

“ Lookout Mountain and Missionary Ridge,” 
corrected Scott, laughingly. “You tell us, Jack; 
you’re the historian of the party, anyway. I never 
enjoyed in all my life any lecture as much as the 
one you gave on the campaigns down there on 
the York River and the Peninsula.” 

“That’s right,” murmured Larcum. “That’s 
just what I expected. You turn the whole thing 
over to Jack and ask him to tell about it. Don’t 
you know what the story is?” 

“I know there was a battle.” 

“Is that all you know?” 

“Pretty much, I’ll confess. Jack can tell it, 
though.” 

“Humph!” remarked Larcum. “Give me a 
New Yorker every time for that kind of work. 
It doesn’t make any difference whether he really 
knows anything about it or not; he holds up 
his head and talks just the same.” 


270 FOUR BOYS IN LAND OF COTTON 


"Go ahead, Jack,” pleaded Scott. "You tell 
us. Fll confess my ignorance.” 

"I don’t know very much, I’m afraid,” re- 
sponded John. "I’m going to read it all up again 
just as soon as I go home. But Chattanooga 
was thought to be a very important place in the 
Civil War, for an army that held it could control 
all East Tennessee, and hold the northern part 
of Georgia, too. In the early part of the summer 
of 1863, Rosecrans moved his army south from 
Murfreesboro, and Bragg retired slowly before him 
till he was in Chattanooga. It wasn’t long before 
Rosecrans had moved a part of his army so far 
around Bragg that the Confederates drew out of 
the town and crossed over into Georgia, where 
they took their stand behind a little creek named 
Chickamauga. You see, Bragg had fooled Rose- 
crans by making his enemy believe that he (Bragg) 
was retreating. But he really wasn’t. He had 
received some reenforcements from Lee’s army, 
and at Chickamauga he gave battle. There were 
about fifty-five thousand men in the Union Army, 
and about sixty thousand in the Confederate. 
Each side lost about seventeen thousand men in 
that battle.” 

"But how did it come out, Jack?” broke in 


LOOKOUT MOUNTAIN 271 

Larcum. “You’re a long time coming to 
that.” 

“Why, the Confederates won. Some of the 
Northern men held their ground obstinately, 
those under General George H. Thomas, I mean, 
and they covered the retreat of the others back 
into Chattanooga. There the Northern army 
was shut up and besieged for nearly two months. 
There was only one road that could be used by 
Rosecrans, for Bragg, who was fortifying and hold- 
ing Lookout Mountain and Missionary Ridge, — 
you see each of them was a half mile high, — was 
too strong to be driven out. The Union Army 
couldn’t advance, and couldn’t retreat, either. 
It seemed to be bottled up. Bragg felt so sure — ” 

“‘Brag is a good dog, but hold fastis better,’” 
suggested Larcum. 

Ignoring the interruption, John continued: 
“General Bragg felt so sure that he had Rosecrans 
where he couldn’t get away, and he was so certain 
that the Union Army would have to surrender, 
that he sent a part of his army, with Longstreet 
in command, up the Tennessee River to besiege 
Knoxville, which Burnside was then holding with 
his men.” 

“Tell us about Lookout Mountain!” demanded 


272 FOUR BOYS IN LAND OF COTTON 


Larcum. ‘Til have to order my luncheon, or 
something desperate, I’m afraid, if you don’t 
come to it pretty soon.” 

“General Grant, after his success at Vicksburg, 
had become one of the real leaders of the Northern 
forces, and he was put in command of all the 
Western armies east of the Mississippi River. 
He began to draw some men from every one of 
these armies, and he drew some, too, from the Army 
of the Potomac, which was under the command 
of Fighting Joe Hooker. He brought Sherman 
with him, too, and some of the other generals he 
knew he could trust, and then he began to make 
his plans to storm Lookout Mountain and Mis- 
sionary Ridge. There were few of his own men 
who believed it could be done, and not one of the 
Confederates was even afraid of its being tried. 
But it was done. For three days — ” 

“What days? When was it, Jack?” inquired 
Scott. 

“The twenty-third, twenty-fourth, and twenty- 
fifth days of November, 1863. Grant worked it 
by making sudden assaults. A good part of the 
fighting was said to be above the clouds, and the 
clouds hid the troops some of the time. It must 
have been an awful sight. There were eighty 


LOOKOUT MOUNTAIN 


273 


thousand in the Union forces, and fifty-five thou- 
sand in the Confederate. Our men lost six thou- 
sand, and the other side lost ten thousand.” 

“What happened then?” inquired Larcum. 

“Oh, after Grant won at Lookout Mountain and 
Missionary Ridge, Bragg’s army retreated to 
Dalton, where Johnston was placed in command 
of it, and Longstreet gave up the seige of Knox- 
ville and retreated across the mountains into 
Virginia. For the rest of the year there was no 
more fighting in the west.” 

“When are you going to give us your lecture 
on the Peninsular campaign?” asked Lee. 

“Any time you want it,” replied John, quickly. 
“I didn’t know just whether you would like to 
have me tell of it, Lee.” 

“Why shouldn’t I like it? I may have to 
help out in some of the parts,” he added quietly. 
“Some parts of it are mighty interestin’.” 

“That’s so, Lee. I’m glad we’re going to stop 
here in Chattanooga. I have always wanted to 
see those places I have been talking about. They 
say there is a park up there now, and fine hotels 
and — ” 

“You fellows can stop, but I can’t,” broke in 
Larcum. 


274 FOUR BOYS IN LAND OF COTTON 


“Why not?” asked Scott. 

‘ ‘ I’m a business man. ‘ Business before pleasure’ 
always and everywhere with me. That telegram 
back there in Richmond has compelled me to 
change my plans, much to my regret.” 

“What telegram?” demanded Lee. 

“The one the waiter brought me while we were 
seated at our table in the dining room, and the 
one that came in answer to the one that I sent 
to answer the one — ” 

“Do you mean it, Larc?” inquired John. 

“I surely do. I don’t want to interfere with 
your plans, though. There is no reason why you 
should not stop if you want to.” 

“Where would we meet you?” 

“That is hard to say. I must go to Nashville, 
but I may have a telegram there that will compel 
me to — ” 

“Bother your telegrams!” said Scott, angrily. 

“I’m a business man, at six — ” began Larcum, 
but he ceased abruptly, and all four boys instantly 
started from their seats, and the expression of 
intense alarm was visible on every face. 


CHAPTER XXII 


A FAMOUS TENNESSEEAN 

The swaying of the cars, and the jolting motion 
which threw the boys back when they attempted 
to rise, at once indicated that something was wrong 
with the train. The speed slackened, but as 
Scott and Larcum looked out from the windows 
they could see that the tracks and ties were being 
twisted or broken by the cracking of the car- 
wheels. 

“We’re off the track!” shouted Larcum. 

“Sit down ! Sit down ! ” called Scott, sternly, and 
there was sufficient self-control left among the young 
travellers to enable them to obey. With blanched 
faces they gazed at one another, waiting, in a 
suspense which no one could express, for the train 
to stop or to roll from the embankment. The 
faces of the other passengers in the dining car 
also betrayed the alarm which was felt, and a few 
of the women ran, screaming, back into the coaches 
in the rear, as if they were persuaded that greater 

275 


276 FOUR BOYS IN LAND OF COTTON 


safety was to be had there. The grinding and 
rocking of the cars continued for a time which not 
one of the boys could have defined, but at last the 
motion ceased, and the train stood still. Then, with 
a bound, the four boys made their way to the plat- 
form and leaped to the ground, joining the 
crowd that already was pouring forth from the 
halted train, every man showing by his white face 
and his excitement the fear which had pos- 
sessed him. 

“Look at that, will you!” exclaimed Larcum, 
as he began to run toward the locomotive. 
“Just see what we missed! That was about 
the closest call I’ve ever had in all my business 
career.” 

For a time no one responded, as they all gazed 
at the place where the locomotive had stopped. 
It was only a few feet away from a narrow bridge 
that spanned a stream far below, and had the 
train gone only a little farther the cars would all 
have been plunged into the defile through which 
the noisy stream was making its way. 

The perspiration was visible on John’s forehead 
as he peered at the depths below, and the heat of 
the morning was not the sole cause of his con- 
dition, 



“ That was about the closest call I’ve ever had in all 
my business career.” — Page 276. 



A FAMOUS TENNESSEEAN 


277 


“I’m glad we’re up here instead of being down 
in that gully,” he said in a low voice. 

" Doesn’t take much to please you, Jack,” said 
Scott, quietly. 

"Well, we’re safe, anyway, and there’s no use 
in troubling ourselves about what might have 
been,” remarked Lee. "Let’s go back and find 
out what the cause of the accident was.” 

"We’ll have plenty of time for that,” declared 
Larcum, as he joined his friends, and the four 
boys at once returned to the car in which their 
belongings were. 

"Think we’ll have to stay here long, Larc?” 
inquired John. 

Larcum shrugged his shoulders, but made no 
other response ; and in a brief time, after the first 
excitement had died away, the passengers began 
to show their impatience and to inquire of the 
trainmen how soon relief was likely to come. 
Their questions were not answered, however, 
for no one knew what reply to make. It was 
manifest, however, that although the cause of the 
accident was not explained, there was slight 
promise of help before a "wrecker” could be 
obtained from Chattanooga. 

"Where do you fancy all these people come 


278 FOUR BOYS IN LAND OF COTTON 


from?” said John, as he pointed at the assemblage 
of whites and blacks that surrounded the train. 

“I haven’t the least idea,” laughed Lee. “It’s 
like a fire. There’s always a crowd — and would 
be, I reckon, if the desert of Sahara got on 
fire.” 

“We may think the Sahara Desert is like an ice- 
box compared with what we’ll have to endure 
here if we stay long. This sun is hot now, for 
it’s beating right down on the side of this hill.” 

Unmindful of their escape from peril, and irri- 
tated over the prospect of a long delay, the boys 
turned away from the crowd and started toward 
the bank of the stream. 

“Is that man one of the first families of Ten- 
nessee, oris he only a ‘ judge’?” inquired Scott, 
glibly, in a low voice, as he indicated a man who 
was approaching. The stranger was tall and 
stoop-shouldered; his clothing resembled jeans; 
his hair was thin and of a faded color, for which 
not one of the boys could find a name ; his beard 
was long and straggling, and matched his locks 
in color; and even the blue of his eyes also 
seemed to be of a faded tint in harmony with 
the jean trousers, which were held in place by a 
single strap over his shoulder that appeared to 


A FAMOUS TENNESSEEAN 


279 


have a fixed place over his shirt, which was so 
faded that its original color was largely a matter 
of conjecture, though not one of the boys believed 
its color, even by chance, could have differed 
materially from the rest of his garb. The stranger’s 
jaws were working steadily as he “chewed,” 
but no other part of his anatomy gave any evi- 
dence of ever having known the dignity of 
labor. 

“Mawnin’, suh,” said the man, as he halted. 
“You uns ’pear t’ have hed a right smart bit 
o’ trouble this mawnin’.” 

“Yes, sir,” responded John. “I’m afraid we’ll 
have to stay here some time.” 

“Oh, wall, it’s a turribly healthy place, suh,” 
drawled the man. 

“That’s some consolation,” laughed Scott. 

“Yaas, suh,” acknowledged the stranger, as 
he spat accurately and vigorously at a log two 
yards away. “’Beout all we uns can raise down 
yere is health. The land is so doggone poor, caint 
even raise a fever.” 

The man smiled almost sadly, it seemed to the 
boys, and then thoughtfully, and with accuracy, 
repeated his former attempt to hit the knot in 
the log. 


280 FOUR BOYS IN LAND OF COTTON 


“Oh, well, there is a law of compensation every- 
where/ ? said John, lightly. 

“I never thought much o’ yer laws , stranger,” 
responded the man, soberly. “Tears like they 
was mos’ly made t 7 help some folks t 7 keep th 7 
rest of folks down. I never been t 7 Chattanooga 
but onct in my life, an 7 now I 7 m goin 7 on seventy. 
But we don 7 t have nobody like Jackson now t 7 
give us our rights. 77 

“You have your health, 77 suggested Larcum, 
somewhat tartly. 

“That 7 s right, stranger. We suhtainly do 
manage to keep that, though it seems like it 7 s 
7 beout all a poor man has left. Fourteen people 
tried t 7 commit suicide deown yere las 7 year, 
but every one o 7 7 em failed. Tears like it 7 s too 
healthy even for a man t 7 take his own life. 
Caint do it, suh.” 

“You seem to have lived to be an old man, 77 
suggested Larcum. 

“Caint say I 7 m so turribly old, 77 responded the 
stranger. “Still, I 7 m livin 7 in hopes, suh. I 7 ve 
generally noticed, stranger, that there 7 s mighty 
few men o 7 my age die hereabout. It 7 s healthy, 
like I was tellin 7 you. 77 

“I should think you would find it lonesome 
here, living so far away, 77 suggested Scott. 


A FAMOUS TENNESSEEAN 


281 


“Caint say’s I live so turribly far away, suh,” 
said the man, slowly. “My shanty is right back 
yonder, suh, not mor’n a few rod back. Where 
mought you live, stranger?” 

“My home is in New York,” responded 
Scott. 

“So?” inquired the old man, evidently not 
impressed, as Scott had expected him to be. “I 
reckon that’s a right smart way from yere.” 

“Yes, sir.” 

“Wall, it ’pears some folks like to live a good 
way off. I always liked it right yere. I never 
was no gadabout.” 

“Who is the greatest man in this part of the 
country?” inquired John, quizzically. 

“Andrew Jackson,” responded the stranger, 
promptly, and for the first time in the interview 
displaying any signs of animation. 

“But Jackson doesn’t live here,” protested 
Larcum. “Andrew Jackson is dead.” 

“So I have heered some folks say.” 

“But he is dead,” persisted John. “He died 
at Nashville, in 1845.” 

“That’s what some folks say.” The man was 
not even inclined to argue; but whether or not 
he still believed that Andrew Jackson was some- 


282 FOUR BOYS IN LAND OF COTTON 


where in Tennessee, was a query unanswered in 
the minds of the boys. 

“Any fishing in that brook down there ?” asked 
Scott, abruptly changing the subject. 

“Some folks say there is.” 

“Did you ever fish there?” inquired Larcum. 

“Yaas, suh, I reckon like I did.” 

“Come on, fellows,” called Larcum. “Let’s 
go down there.” 

With some difficulty the boys followed their 
friend, as he led the way toward the stream below. 
Scott turned and glanced a little anxiously at 
the train and the loitering people, but apparently 
the condition was unchanged, and there was no 
prospect of relief coming soon. Eagerly follow- 
ing his friends, he overtook them near the bed 
of the stream in the midst of a mass of rock from 
which coal could be seen glistening in the sun- 
light. 

“I think it is lucky, fellows, that we had a 
good breakfast. There ought to be supplies 
enough on the train to last us for luncheon, and 
by night we should have a relief train here. 
Now I’m going to fish.” Larcum drew a piece 
of string from his pocket, and fastening a bent pin 
to it, he then secured some bugs for bait, and began 


A FAMOUS TENNESSEEAN 283 

his task, while his friends seated themselves in the 
shade and watched Larcum’s actions. 

“Strange how Andrew Jackson’s name lingers 
here, isn’t it?” suggested John, after a silence had 
fallen over the party. 

“I’ve heard that there are men back here in 
these Tennessee mountains who vote for Jackson 
every year, now,” said Scott. 

“I’ve heard it, but I never believed it,” re- 
torted Lee. “But then, even if they do, I reckon 
it’s better to vote for a good dead man than a 
bad live one.” 

“Andrew Jackson was always a marvel to me,” 
continued John, almost as if he had not heard 
what his friends had been saying. “I wonder 
what he would have said if he had been alive still, 
when he heard some of these men talking about 
their ‘not having any chance,’ and all that. I 
don’t believe we ever had two men in the history 
of America who seemed to be born with less of 
a ‘chance’ to do anything than Andrew Jackson 
and Abraham Lincoln. And yet, somehow, the 
world did hear of them both.” 

“That isn’t quite fair, Jack,” suggested Lee. 
“Neither was an ordinary man.” 

“That’s all right, Lee,” said John, quickly, 


284 FOUR BOYS IN LAND OF COTTON 


“but it doesn’t prove anything except as to the 
degree. They were big men and made a big 
mark. Some men not so big make a smaller 
mark, perhaps; but what I rebel against, is all 
this talk that a fellow hasn’t any chance to-day. 
You hear it 1 whined’ on every side, no matter 
which way you turn. ‘ No chance’ ! ‘ No chance ’ ! ” 

“Jack, what are you going to do when you leave 
college?” inquired Lee. 

“I’m going into business with my father.” 

“Fine! You have ‘a chance,’ haven’t you? 
How about some poor chap who doesn’t happen 
to have any such article as a father who will 
take him into business?” 

“Doesn’t make a particle of difference except 
at the start,” declared John, quickly sitting erect, 
and eager to argue as ever he was. “ Listen, 
and I’ll tell you a story.” 

“I don’t want any of your fairy tales, John 
Adams Field, Jr.,” declared Scott. 

“This is no fairy tale,” retorted John. “Once 
upon a time, and it wasn’t so very long ago, either, 
a man went to Atlantic City. While he was there, 
he went out to the Absecon lighthouse, and he 
found the keeper putting in new glass. It seems 
the winds and the storms there drive the sand 


A FAMOUS TENNESSEEAN 285 


against the glass so hard and so much that every 
little while they have to take out the old glasses 
and put in new ones, for the old ones are scratched 
and cut and blurred by the sand. Well, sir, 
this visitor watched the lighthouse keeper put- 
ting in the new glass and taking out the old. 
The man asked the keeper a few questions and 
then left, but he went back home, and pretty soon 
he had worked out a new process of making 
ground glass by the use of sand. Now, what I 
want to know is this : didn’t that old lighthouse 
keeper have every chance in the world to do what 
the other man did ? He’d been there a long time ; 
he knew all about the effect of sand on the glass. 
Why didn’t he get up a new way of making ground 
glass ? Didn’t he have a ‘ chance ’ to do it, and a 
good deal better one, too, than the other man had ? 
This talk about 1 chance ’ is all foolishness ! 
The ‘ chance’ is just inside his cranium, and if he 
doesn’t see it, no one else can ever hope to help 
him find it. No, sir !” 

“I see you have been reading up on Jackson,” 
laughed Scott. “Go ahead, Jack. We’ll try to 
be patient.” 

“I want to hear it, sir,” declared Lee, “That’s 
what we are here for,” 


286 FOUR BOYS IN LAND OF COTTON 

“ Where’s Larc?” Scott suddenly demanded. 

“Oh, he’s gone off down the stream,” said John, 
as he glanced at the ravine. “He’ll come back 
in time for luncheon. You needn’t be anxious 
about him. As I was saying, Andrew Jackson 
was born, after his father died, in North Carolina, 
in 1767. As a boy, I regret to state that he was 
mischievous, generous, not fond of study; but a 
great lad for all the games and sports. When the 
Revolution broke out he went with his brother 
Robert to join Sumter’s men, but both boys were 
made prisoners by the British. Andrew was 
only thirteen years old at the time, but when the 
British officer, whose prisoner young Jackson was, 
told the little fellow to clean his muddy boots, 
— I mean the officer’s boots, of course, — and 
Andrew declared he wouldn’t do it, he got a 
sword-cut for his pains. That was the spirit he 
showed all through his life, and I don’t wonder 
they called him Old Hickory. What’s that?” 
John suddenly demanded. 

A prolonged whistling came from the railway 
far away. As the sound continued, John said 
anxiously, “Where’s Larc?” 

But not a glimpse of their companion could be 
seen. The boys shouted and called and whistled 


A FAMOUS TENNESSEEAN 


287 


for their missing companion, but no response came. 
Even the whistling of the locomotive had ceased, 
and for a moment the three boys stared helplessly 
at one another. 


CHAPTER XXIII 


OLD HICKORY 

“Come on !” called John, quickly, as he turned 
to retrace his way. 

“Aren’t you going to wait for Larc, Jack?” 
demanded Lee. 

“Larc will look out for himself,” retorted John. 
“He may be up there now. Come on ! Come on, 
fellows ! We mustn’t be left here !” 

In spite of Lee’s misgivings, both he and Scott 
followed their friend, and when at last they re- 
turned to the place where the train had left the 
track, they were dripping with perspiration, and 
their consternation was great when they beheld a 
train of four cars, which had backed to the bridge 
near which the accident had occurred. From 
the windows of the cars the heads of passengers 
could be seen peering out at the approaching 
boys, and as the latter drew near they were greeted 
with shouts and calls for them to make haste and 
get on board. In response to the queries of the 
288 


OLD HICKORY 


289 


boys, they learned that the relief train had been 
sent to carry the passengers to Chattanooga, and 
that it was to start at once. Lee’s protests that 
one of the party had not as yet returned, and 
that the departure must be delayed until Larcum 
appeared, were disregarded. The conductor de- 
clared that he had already delayed too long, and 
that his orders were for him to start at once. 
Lee declared warmly that he would not desert 
his friend at such a time, and even blamed John 
for his apparent indifference; but somehow — and 
not one of the boys was afterward able to explain 
just how it was done — all three found themselves 
on board, and the cars began to move in the 
direction of their destination. 

“Larc will have to stay there till some time 
to-morrow,” Lee declared ruefully, as he gazed 
out of a window of the car. 

“ Don’t worry about Larc. He’ll take care 
of himself,” declared John. 

“But it’s a low-down trick to leave him like 
this,” protested Lee. 

“He’ll be in Nashville not long after we — ” 

“ ‘ Nashville ’ ! ” interrupted Lee, sharply. “You 
don’t mean to say that you all will not wait for 
Larc at Chattanooga? Why, sir, I — ” 


290 FOUR BOYS IN LAND OF COTTON 


“ He’ll go on to Nashville,” broke in John, 
soberly. “ Don’t you remember what he said 
about the telegram he received at Richmond? 
He’ll have to go, and that’s all there is to it, so 
we might just as well keep right on, ourselves. 
It will save time in the end.” 

Lee was silent, but it was evident that he was 
not fully convinced by his friend’s words. To 
leave one of the quartette, as Larcum had been 
deserted, to him seemed to be the very acme of 
injustice. 

However, there did not appear to be any other 
solution for the problem, and Lee was compelled 
to be content, though his silence made conversa- 
tion on the part of his companions almost im- 
possible. About two hours later the train pulled 
into Chattanooga, and Lee’s consternation w’as 
great when the conductor informed them that 
they could at once secure a passage to Nashville. 

“I must say I don’t like it,” he muttered, as 
he arose from his seat and followed his compan- 
ions on their way to the door. “I reckon I’d bet- 
ter wait over here for a few hours, anyway — ” 

His words were interrupted by a shout from 
Scott, who was in advance, and had gained the 
platform of the car. Before him, apparently 


OLD HICKORY 


291 


waiting in the assembly of people at the station, 
he had perceived the towering form of Larcum, 
the expression of his face not betraying any special 
interest in the arrivals, although Scott was con- 
vinced that he himself had already been seen. 

“ There ’s your missing hero, Lee,” Scott said 
in a low voice, soberly. “I thought you had 
known Larc long enough not to waste any time 
or tears over his misfortunes. How he got here 
before we did, puzzles me, I’ll own.” 

The three boys made a rush for their big com- 
panion, and Lee impulsively said: “What do you 
mean, sir? Where were you, Larc? Did you 
desert us?” 

“That’s a fine question to ask me,” retorted 
Larcum, glumly. “I ‘ desert’ you? Is that the 
way you put it? Just recall what you said — 
you three fellows — back there by that creek. 
You know you talked it all over among your- 
selves and agreed to leave me to my fate. As far 
as my friends are concerned, I might have been 
eaten by the Tennessee bears, or — or — ” 

“Larcum,” broke in Lee, eagerly, “I didn’t — ” 
“No, perhaps you didn’t, Lee,” acknowledged 
Larcum, graciously. “But you know as well as 
I do, that these two fellows thought a great deal 


292 FOUR BOYS IN LAND OF COTTON 


more of their own comfort than they did of my 
safety. As far as they are concerned, my bones 
might have been left in that ravine — ” 

“ That’s right, Larc,” interrupted John, glibly. 
“We’d have left your bones there, so that some 
future geologist might have found them and 
then published his great discovery and covered 
himself with glory by claiming he had found 
the relics of an extinct species. Come on, Larc, 
we must get that train for Nashville, or we’ll be 
left.” 

“I’m hungry,” said Larcum, simply. 

“Never mind. We’ll find you something on 
the train, Larc,” laughed John, as he at once 
started toward one of the near-by officials to make 
inquiries. 

It was not long before the four boys were once 
more seated in a car, and were on their way to 
Nashville. Not one of them had inquired how 
Larcum had been in the station at Chattanooga 
when they had arrived, for, with the exception of 
Lee, they knew that their friend was eager to have 
them do this very thing, and John was resolved 
that no such satisfaction should be given. Ap- 
parently, all were interested in the sights to be 
seen from the car windows, and conversation 


OLD HICKORY 


293 


flagged. Numerous villages at which the train 
did not stop were seen, and in every one it was 
the large proportion of negroes among the as- 
sembled people which particularly impressed the 
visitors from the North. The country itself was 
not very thickly populated, and in places seemed 
to be suffering from a lack of enterprise and culti- 
vation. The thrifty John made frequent remarks 
concerning what he saw, but Lee was the only one 
who could be affected by them, and apparently 
he ignored any slighting references. 

When Scott had spoken several times of the 
numbers of people they had seen who, apparently, 
were not being “overworked,” Lee laughed, and 
said, “That's all right. They have to be care- 
ful. Do you know what the difference is between 
making a horse work and a mule work?” 

“Can't say that I do, Lee,” responded John, 
watching his friend as he spoke, and preparing 
to retort to what he expected to hear. 

“You can work a horse till he'll drop dead 
in his tracks; but when a mule is close to the 
limit he'll quit, and you can't make him do a bit 
more.” 

“Is that a fact, Lee?” said Scott. 

“It surely is. And there's the same difference 


294 FOUR BOYS IN LAND OF COTTON 


between a white man and a negro, too. You can 
work a white man to death, but a negro — well, 
a negro will not go beyond the limit of his 
strength,” Lee added, with a laugh. 

“From the perambulations of the gentleman 
with whom we fortuitously chanced to meet at 
the place which, in the vernacular, is termed ‘way 
back yondah, suh,’ — I refer, as doubtless your 
psychological inductions have already intimated, 
to the scene of our recent compulsory departure 
from the pathway established by the railroad, — 
it would appear, I venture to reiterate by way 
of a suggestion, that the utmost care is taken by 
darker-hued denizens of the region, and eke by 
certain of somewhat lighter hue, not to exceed the 
limit of safety in the matter of undue physical 
labor. You apprehend my point of view, Lee?” 
said John, soberly. 

^Perfectly, perfectly, sir,” laughed Lee. “But 
what I’m telling you is true. My father is in- 
terested in a coal-mine, and he told me the other 
day that the directors were entirely willing to in- 
crease the wages of the miners. In fact, they 
wanted to, but they didn’t dare.” 

“Why not?” said Larcum. 

“Because so much less coal would be mined. 


OLD HICKORY 


295 


It’s a fact,” Lee added warmly, as his friends 
laughed. “It's just like I'm telling you. These 
men won't do a stroke of work after they have 
earned a little money, until they have used up every 
cent of it in having what they think is a good time. 
Then, when the money is gone, they'll go to work 
again and get a little more, and then they'll stop 
again. Now, if they get the amount they want 
too soon, why, it simply means that there'll be 
less work done.” 

“It is unfortunate to be compelled by Dame 
Fortune to live where such conditions prevail,” 
said John, his eyes twinkling, in spite of his som- 
bre tones. 

“I don't think it is Dame Fortune — it is her 
daughter, Miss Fortune, that is to blame,” sug- 
gested Larcum. 

For a moment no one spoke, while all three 
gazed sadly at their friend, and then despondingly 
shook their heads. “This high altitude has 
affected Larc,” said John, at last. “We might 
better have left him to his fate when the train 
left the track.” 

“Larc, how did you get ahead of us into Chat- 
tanooga?” demanded Lee. 

“I rode in.” 


296 FOUR BOYS IN LAND OF COTTON 


“On what?” 

“On the car ahead of the one you three fellows 
were in.” 

“Were you in that car all the time?” de- 
manded Lee, sharply. 

“All the time after we started. You see, I 
passed you when Jack was telling you something 
that must have been exciting, for Scott seemed to 
be asleep, and as you didn’t pay any attention to 
me, I went back up to the wreck. When that 
other train came, I thought at first I’d go down 
and call you, but I knew you could hear the whistle 
if you would, and then I made up my mind I’d 
stay right where I was, and find out just how much 
you really would do for a comrade in distress. 
I found out,” he added dryly. 

“I tried to get them to wait, Larc,” protested 
Lee. 

“Your efforts appear to have been unavailing.” 

“According to your story, Larc, you were willing 
that we should be left. You found a seat for 
yourself, and didn’t — ” began Scott. 

“Oh, yes, I was quite willing,” interrupted 
Larcum. “In fact, I was thinking of doing some- 
thing more for you.” 

“What was that, Larc?” inquired Scott. 


OLD HICKORY 


297 


“I intended to send you a telegram.” 

“But you couldn’t send them a message there, 
Larc,” protested Lee, puzzled by the expression- 
less faces of the three boys. “You couldn’t 
do that. There was no operator there, and the 
nearest station was at least five miles away.” 

But all three boys were gazing solemnly out of 
the windows, and no one replied to Lee’s protests. 

“Jack, why don’t you give us the rest of the 
story of Andrew Jackson,” suggested Scott, at 
last. “We’ve got to have it before we are out of 
Tennessee, and really, I was very much interested 
in what you were telling. You left off just as 
the continued stories do, right in the most excit- 
ing spot. Young Jackson, aged thirteen, had just 
received a sword-cut for refusing to clean the boots 
of a British officer. Did he recover ? ” 

“I was telling you about Jackson’s studying 
law,” began John, ignoring his friend’s question. 
“He didn’t have what to-day is looked upon as 
the best preparation, for he had worked in a 
harness shop, taught school — in fact, he did 
almost anything to make a living. But in spite of 
his easy-going ways he now began to do so much 
work that to-day it seems scarcely credible.” 

“That’s just the difference between men,” 


298 FOUR BOYS IN LAND OF COTTON 


suggested Larcum. “The amount of work a 
man can do is the measure of his ability. Now, 
before one can become a successful business man, 
at six per — ” 

“Jackson was only twenty- two years old when 
he was appointed public prosecutor for the 
western district of North Carolina — that is 
now Tennessee — ” continued John, ignoring the 
interruption, “and it was simply wonderful the 
way he worked. He was very much interested in 
the militia, too, and when the War of 1812 broke 
out, he offered to raise fifteen hundred men. 
His offer was promptly accepted, but it was a 
long time before he received word to start for 
New Orleans. At last he got his army of two 
thousand or more together at Natchez, but 
Wilkinson and the Secretary of War (Armstrong) 
were both said to be jealous of him, and before 
anything could be done, Jackson received word 
that he was to dismiss his corps. Old Hickory 
wouldn’t do it at first, but he finally did bring his 
men back to Tennessee. Then he offered to lead 
them into Canada, but Armstrong opposed him, 
and at last, when the pay of his men, even after 
they had been disbanded, had not been given them, 
Jackson himself became responsible for it.” 


OLD HICKORY 299 

“Didn’t he ever get it back?” demanded 
Scott. 

“Yes; after such a storm was raised by his 
friends that even Armstrong could not stand 
against it. In 1813, Andrew Jackson, though he 
was a sick man, raised another army and started 
for Alabama, where the Creeks had been stirred 
up by Tecumseh and his brother, as well as by 
the British and the Spaniards, and the way he 
subdued the Indians you know all about. His 
name was by this time a familiar one in the coun- 
try, and he was made a major-general in 1814. 
He didn’t wait for instructions any more, and 
drove the Spaniards out of Pensacola, and then 
moved on to New Orleans. He had plenty to do 
there, too, for there were foes in the town as well 
as outside, and it was believed that Sir Edward 
Pakenham would lead the British troops against 
New Orleans very soon. That was just what he 
did, but Old Hickory was ready for him. The 
battle took place on January 8, 1815, and within 
twenty-five minutes after it began, the British — 
or rather what was left of them — were in full 
retreat. The commander and twenty-five hundred 
of his men had fallen, while Jackson had lost only 
eight men, and had had twenty-five wounded.” 


300 FOUR BOYS IN LAND OF COTTON 


“Is that a fact?” demanded Larcum, interested 
at once. 

“It certainly is. You can look it up for your- 
self when we are in Nashville.” 


CHAPTER XXIV 


A PREDICAMENT 

“You can readily understand,” continued 
John, “that after the battle of New Orleans, 
Andrew J. was a very popular man in America. 
Peace had been declared before that battle had 
been fought, but as no word had been brought 
either army, there was no reason for blaming the 
generals, and no one did blame them. After 
the War of 1812, Jackson subdued the Seminole 
Indians in Florida, who had been making a good 
deal of trouble, and then he became the first 
governor of Florida itself, which Spain had ceded 
to the United States. 

“In 1823, Tennessee elected Jackson United 
States Senator, and even mentioned him as a 
good man for the presidency. Popular as the 
general was, the thought of nominating him for 
that office made even some of his warmest ad- 
mirers smile, for the man was uncouth, rough in 
many of his ways, without the polish or training 

301 


302 FOUR BOYS IN LAND OF COTTON 


of the schools, and it was said he was not able to 
speak or write very correct English.” 

“ There have been several of us,” remarked 
Larcum, soberly, “who have preferred the simpli- 
fied spelling. I don’t know that it really is 
anything against us, though. Andrew J. could 
not spell very well, ditto Larcum B.; but one 
became President of the United States, and 
the other a great business man at a salary of 
six per — ” 

“Jackson became President, all right, in 1829, 
and was reelected four years afterward. He was 
a man determined to have his own way, and 
there were some lively times, too ; but he was so 
ruggedly honest and fearless that the people 
believed in him. It was a wonderful time, too, 
while he was President, for railroads, newspapers, 
and hundreds of new enterprises began to flourish, 
and the life was more like ours than it had been 
up to that time.” 

“What became of Jackson after he was Presi- 
dent the second time?” inquired Scott. 

“I’m not a very accurate historian,” said Lar- 
cum, quickly, “but I think all the reliable records 
agree that Old Hickory died.” 

No one spoke for a moment, and every face was 


A PREDICAMENT 


303 


solemn in its expression. At last John said: 
“Yes, Larcum is correct once in his life. After 
Jackson left Washington, he came back to his 
plantation near Nashville, which he had named 
'The Hermitage/ and there he died, in 1845.” 

“It seems to me, though,” suggested Larcum, 
“that if he has been dead only since 1845, that 
he must still be the livest man in Tennessee. 
I haven’t happened to meet any that impressed 
me as having had any breath since long before 
that time,” said Larcum. 

“John,” inquired Scott, “wasn’t there something 
important going on at Nashville later than 1845?” 

“Yes,” responded John, with a laugh. “After 
General Grant, in 1862, had had word that Com- 
modore Foote had captured Fort Henry over on 
the Tennessee River, and he himself had then 
taken Fort Donelson, why, it pushed back the 
whole Confederate line into Tennessee, and the 
Federals occupied Nashville without any trouble. 
Abraham Lincoln appointed 'Andy’ Johnson as 
military governor of Tennessee. Grant’s army was 
increased, and sent on boats up the Tennessee 
River to Pittsburg Landing, or Shiloh, where the 
Confederates almost caught the Union men nap- 
ping. You see, General Grant didn’t know that 


304 FOUR BOYS IN LAND OF COTTON 


the Confederate forces had been gathered there 
under Albert Sidney Johnston, for he thought 
they would wait till Buell could come, too. But 
Johnston struck, and struck hard, and at first it 
seemed as if the Federals were beaten. Very 
likely they would have been, if some other man 
than Grant had been the leader; but Johnston 
was killed, about twenty thousand fresh troops 
came for Grant, and at last he drove the Confed- 
erates from the field. It was really the first 
great battle of the war. The Union forces had 
more troops and more losses than the Confed- 
erates, but they finally held their ground, and 
that’s the test.” 

“Jack, why did you call that battle Pittsburg 
Landing, or Shiloh?” asked Lee. 

“Pittsburg Landing is the real name, I suppose, 
down there near where Mississippi, Alabama, and 
Tennessee come together, but some of the heaviest 
fighting took place near a little church called 
Shiloh, and that, I fancy, is the reason why the 
other name is given, too.” 

“All the same,” persisted Larcum, as he rose 
from his seat, “I still believe that Andrew Jack- 
son is now the livest man in Tennessee. We’re 
going to stop at this station, I see, and you just 


A PREDICAMENT 


305 


watch me. I’m going out on the platform and 
just call him. You listen, and perhaps you’ll 
hear his voice.” 

The boys laughed, and all three looked out of 
the car window to discover what the effect of 
their friend’s hail would be. As the rumbling 
train at last halted beside the platform, Larcum 
quickly advanced, and shouted, “Here, you, 
Andrew Jackson ! Come here !” 

“ Yaas, suh !” “Here yo’ is, boss !” “ Yaas, suh ! 
Yaas, suh ! ” came three distinct responses from the 
same number of bare-footed colored boys that ran 
swiftly to the car, bringing their trays supplied 
with fried chicken and various other viands. 
Larcum solemnly made his purchases, and when 
the train started, he returned to the place, where 
his friends greeted him hilariously. 

“You did it, Larc! There were three of them 
that spoke up like little men, and you called only 
once,” said Scott, delightedly. 

“'Three’?” said Larcum. “You saw, then, 
only those three young gentlemen of color. But 
they were only a part — a very small part. I 
think half the white men around the station 
stopped as if they had been shot when I sent 
forth my cry for Andrew J. If I had called 


306 FOUR BOYS IN LAND OF COTTON 


the second time, the engineer and conductor 
would have come to me, the crowd at the station 
would have been upon me, and we shouldn’t 
have gotten out of this place for a day or two. 
No, sir ! There’s no danger of being lost in 
Tennessee, let me tell you. All a man has to do, 
even if he is out in the wilderness and the wilds, 
is to lift up his voice and call for Old Hickory, 
and the very trees will answer him.” 

“Strange, isn’t it?” said John, thoughtfully. 

“What’s strange?” demanded Lee. 

“Why, it’s strange that Andrew Jackson’s 
name should be everywhere hereabouts.” 

“I reckon it is a bit strange,” acknowledged 
Lee, his eyes twinkling. “I have often been 
puzzled about it myself — why Andrew Jackson 
should be made so much of by the Tennesseeans 
and Robert E. Lee by the Virginians, — till I went 
up to Boston to visit you, Jack. And then I 
saw the reason, sir. When I found that Boston 
babies and barns and boys and streets and sisters 
and schools and towns were all named after John 
Adams — ” 

“But that is different,” interrupted John, 
quickly. 

A shout went up from his fellows (for the boys 


A PREDICAMENT 


307 


had the car almost to themselves), but John 
calmly said again, “It is different, and you 
know it is.” 

Again the boys noisily expressed their delight 
and even John himself was compelled to smile, 
as he said, “It’s a difference in kind, anyway.” 

“That's so,” said Lee, soberly. “You said, sir, 
that Andrew Jackson was honest and fearless — ” 
But Lee was not permitted to complete his sen- 
tence, for his friends shouted, and then “fell upon” 
the viands which Larcum had secured at the 
station. 

It was after dark when the four young travellers 
arrived in Nashville and hastily proceeded to the 
hotel which had been recommended to them. 

“You have a room reserved for me?” de- 
manded Larcum of the clerk. “I wired you this 
morning, you know.” 

“What’s the name, sir?” inquired the clerk. 

“Brown, Larcum Brown.” 

“Yes, sir. Here’s your key, sir.” 

“Come on, Lee. We’ll go up to our room,” 
said Larcum, as he turned away. “We’ll meet 
you fellows in the dining room in half an hour,” 
he added, to John and Scott, who were still stand- 
ing in front of the desk. 


308 FOUR BOYS IN LAND OF COTTON 


Ignoring his friend's words, Scott was angrily 
saying to the clerk, “Do you mean to tell me 
that that little single room is all you can give us 
for us both?" 

“Yes, sir." 

“We'll go somewhere else," said Scott, turning 
to John. 

“Take my advice and stay right where you 
are, boys," said a man, quietly, who was standing 
near them. “You won't find a room in Nashville, 
I'm afraid." 

Scott hesitated, and then turning again to the 
clerk, he said: “Let me have the key, then. 
We'll go up and take a look at it." 

But the “look," when the boys arrived on the 
top floor and entered the little single room, was 
still more depressing than its promise had been. 
The bedding was still hanging from the footboard 
of the single bed, which was all the room con- 
tained, and the close air and the sunless windows 
were such as to call forth an exclamation of 
disgust from Scott. 

“Andrew Jackson," he said, turning to the 
grinning colored boy, “do you use a hoe or a 
broom when you clean this room?" 

“Ah dunno, suh. Ah spec's dey bof used, 
boss." 


A PREDICAMENT 


309 


“ Eliminate at once my presence from beneath 
this habitable — not to say inhabited — roof,” de- 
manded John, solemnly. The colored boy stared 
for a moment, open-mouthed, but did not speak, 
as John continued: “The gratuitous addition 
to your well-earned wage shall doubtless come 
forth from the receptacles in the nether garments 
of my fellow-traveller if you will at once reveal 
to us the method of procedure by which a more 
attractive apartment in this hostelry shall be 
assigned to us. You perceive my meaning, do 
you not?” 

“Yaas, suh. Yaas, suh,” replied the colored 
boy, hastily and blankly. 

“No use, Jack,” said Scott, despondently. 
“You can't do anything. But for my part, I 
simply won't stay here in such a room.” 

“Are there winged or creeping or crawling things 
that have a permanent abode in this room, An- 
drew Jackson?” said John to the bell-boy, who 
was still lingering in the room, doubtless held by 
the sight of the coin in John's hand. 

“Ah dunno, boss. De las' man say he was 
from — ” 

“Come on, Jack. I simply won't stay !” broke 
in Scott once more. 


310 FOUR BOYS IN LAND OF COTTON 


“Where are you going V* 

‘Til go down to the station — or the station- 
house. I’ll sit up. I’ll get a sleeping-car. 
Til—” 

“Let’s see what Larc has found, before we 
leave,” suggested John, dryly. 

Scott glanced hastily at his friend, and a slight 
smile came into his own face as he said: “I 
don’t know his number. We’ll have to go down 
to the office to find out. Come on ! We’ll give 
up this room, anyway.” 

“Does yo’ mean de two gen’lemen — ” began 
the colored boy. 

“Yes! Yes!” broke in Scott. “Do you know 
where they went?” 

“Yaas, suh.” 

“Then take us there!” began John, tragically, 
“and once thine efforts are crowned with success, 
much lucre shall be heaped upon thy head, thou 
shadowed livery of the tarnished (or varnished, I 
forget which) sun, thou smiling son of Ethiopia.” 

“Come in!” was the shout which came in 
response to the knock which John made upon 
the door of the room which the bell-boy had 
declared was the one to which Larcum and Lee 
had been assigned. There could be no mistaking 


A PREDICAMENT 


311 


the stentorian tones, and John and Scott, followed 
by their grinning bell-boy, at once entered. The 
room itself was spacious, and the care with which 
it had been “kept” was in marked contrast with 
that of the room they had just left. Surprised 
and almost angry, Scott was about to express his 
feelings, when he suddenly discovered that the 
huge Larcum, divested of coat and collar, was 
towering over his own grinning bell-boy, whom 
he had stationed in a stiff, upright position against 
the wall. 

“Now, then,” Larcum was saying, in his most 
sepulchral tones, as he faced and shook his finger 
at the colored boy, “on your word of honor as 
a gentleman, what is your name?” 

“Andrew Jackson, suh,” responded the boy, 
his glistening teeth coming instantly into view. 

“Andrew Jackson what?” 

t 

“Andrew Jackson Bean, suh.” 

“Why do you add such an insignificant word 
as ‘Bean’ to that noble title? Isn’t 1 Andrew 
Jackson’ good enough for you? Do you really 
think you can paint the lily or gild gold? I’m 
not Sure that’s just it, but it’ll do. Now answer 
me !” 

“No, suh. No, suh.” 


312 FOUR BOYS IN LAND OF COTTON 


“Now, Andrew Jackson — just plain Andrew, 
and no Bean about this — on your faith and 
honor as a gentleman, were you — were you — 
ever kicked by a mule?” 

“Yaas, suh! Yaas suh!” responded the boy, 
so promptly that Lee laughed. 

“And how high did that mule kick you?” 
demanded Larcum, solemnly. 

“Ah dunno, boss !” 

“You ‘don’t know’! You can’t expect me 
to believe that ! Now, then, as a matter of per- 
sonal information and not for publication, how 
high do you think you were kicked?” 

“Ah caint say, boss. Ah was so busy gwine 
up, Ah didn’t have no time to look an’ see jis’ 
what dose measurements was, suh.” 

“Andrew Jackson — and this time I will even 
add the Bean — were you ever vaccinated? 
An early and a prompt reply will be greatly 
appreciated.” 

“Ah reck’n Ah was, boss; but Ah don’ know 
jis’ when — ” 

“Do you know just where ?” interrupted Lar- 
cum. 

“Yaas, suh.” 

“Where?” 


A PREDICAMENT 


313 


“Ah think ’twas my lef side, boss.” 

“Did it work?” 

“No, suh. No, suh. Ah was run over by a 
milk wagon de nex’ day.” 

“Why were you run over? Why did you not 
get out of the way?” 

“Ah dunno, boss.” 

“Do you know any other person or persons in 
Nashville who are named Andrew Jackson?” 

“Yaas, suh,” he grinned. “Ah know mos’ a 
million.” 

“Are they male or female? Are they proud? 
Do they — ” 

Larcum ceased abruptly, as a third bell-boy 
approached the open doorway and said: “Mr. 
Field? Telegram for you, sir,” he added, as John 
advanced with extended hand. 


CHAPTER XXV 


A PRIVATE AUTOMOBILE 

Without betraying his suspicion that Larcum 
knew more concerning the unexpected telegram 
than did any one else in the room, John glanced 
keenly at his friend, but the expression he dis- 
covered was not one that afforded any clew. 
Quietly John tore open the envelope, read the 
telegram slowly, and then, without explaining to 
his friends what the word he had received was, 
he thrust both into his pocket. 

“No bad luck, Jack? ” queried Larcum. 

“No,” responded John, quietly. 

“That’s good, then,” said Larcum. “I was 
afraid you might have had word to come home, 
or something. If you were a business man, I 
shouldn’t think anything about a little matter of 
a telegram or so; but as you are — ” 

“No, this wasn’t business. It was only a word 
of welcome from Andrew Jackson,” broke in 
John, soberly. 


314 


A PRIVATE AUTOMOBILE 


315 


“ Andrew Jackson!” exclaimed Larcum. 
“Why, he has been dead — ” 

“Didn't your bell-boy say he knew 'more'n a 
million' Andrew Jacksons?” 

“He certainly did. But — ” 

“'That's all that's necessary, then,” retorted 
John. “Now, then, what I want to know, is what 
we are to do to-night. As for sleeping up in that 
room they gave Scott and me — Well, a vault 
would be a good deal more cheery, and certainly 
would have better air. It's only the man with a 
hoe who can even get into this, to say nothing of 
sleeping there.” 

“Larc has already ordered another big bed to 
be set up in this room,” said Lee, quickly. “He 
made the arrangement at the office before we 
came up.” 

“He did!” exclaimed Scott. “What were we 
carried off to that other hole in the wall for, then ? ” 
“Simply a diversion, my friend,” explained 
Larcum, dryly. “I wanted to find out if you and 
Jack could ever do anything or take anything 
without making a good strong kick first.” 

“You found out,” laughed Scott. “The trav- 
eller who will take anything gets anything. I 
mean to be a gentleman, but I don't intend to — ” 


316 FOUR BOYS IN LAND OF COTTON 

“ That’s the way, Scott,” interrupted Larcum. 
“You don’t intend what you mean. Is that it?” 

“You didn’t hear me all the way through. 
What I was about to say was — ” 

“What I am saying is that I am hungry. And 
what’s more, I’m going to start for the dining room. 
Leave your belongings here, fellows, and when 
we come back, we’ll find the bed set up, all right,” 
broke in Larcum. 

In the dining room the woes of the young 
travellers were speedily forgotten, for the service 
was excellent, and when they returned to their 
room it was to find Larcum’s prophecy fulfilled, 
for an additional large bed had been set up, and 
the problem of the night was solved. 

All four boys, wearied as they were by the tedi- 
ous journey, were soon in bed, and when John and 
Scott awoke on the following morning, they were 
surprised to behold Larcum dressed and seated 
before the desk in the room, busily writing. 

“What’s wrong, Larc?” demanded John, as he 
sat quickly upright in bed. 

“Nothing.” 

“What are you doing?” 

“Writing a poem.” 

“Writing a what?” shouted Lee, from his bed. 


A PRIVATE AUTOMOBILE 


317 


“ Writing a poem. Oh, there’s more in little 
Larcum’s cranium than some of his friends are 
able to appreciate/’ declared Larcum, wagging his 
head, but not once glancing at his companions. 
“ Didn’t Lee write a poem last summer, out in the 
Yellowstone ? Well, I guess yes. And if Lee can 
write one, I’d like to know why I can’t. I’m a 
successful business man, at six per, and that means 
I have as much gray matter at my disposal — ” 

“Read it. Read it, Larc,” called Lee, de- 
lightedly. 

“No, no. Wait till we’ve had our breakfast,” 
protested John. 

Larcum made no response to either of the sug- 
gestions, but soon folded the paper upon which 
he had been writing, and thrusting it into his 
pocket, he departed from the room, declaring that 
he could wait no longer, but would at once go to 
the dining room and secure a table for the party. 

A few minutes afterward, when the three boys 
hastened to the dining room, they perceived their 
friend in a corner of the room, and from his actions 
they at once concluded that whether or not he 
had ordered for them, he had at least provided for 
his own wants. As soon as they had seated them- 
selves, Larcum explained that their breakfast 


318 FOUR BOYS IN LAND OF COTTON 


would soon be ready, as he had already given 
the order for it. “ While you’re waiting, fellows, 
I’ll let you see my poem. I don’t want you to 
criticise first. Just wait till you’ve had a chance 
to let it sink into your minds. After you have 
done that, then I don’t care what you say.” 

“Let me see it, Larc,” said John, holding forth 
his hand. 

“All right. It’s yours,” replied Larcum, as he 
handed his friend the paper. 

John received the slip, and read the written 
words without once glancing up, or permitting the 
expression of his face to change. 

There was once a beautiful girl named Susan Sophia 

Whose mother made pretty good pumpkin pies 

One day the girl married 

A cross-eyed man with a hair lip 

Oh come let us dance on the deep blue sea. 

“Is that all of it, Larc?” inquired John. 

“No, it isn’t” 

“Where is the rest ? Let me see it.” 

“I knew you’d want the rest of it,” declared 
Larcum, triumphantly, as he drew another sheet 
of paper from his inner pocket and handed it to 
John. 


A PRIVATE AUTOMOBILE 


319 


The mother’s eyes were full of flames 
That rose and fell like the river Thames. 

The pie plates were soon all in a clatter 
For even they were upset by the startling data, 

The girl to her mother did say “ We’ll be back soon 
For my husband his name is Andrew Jack-so(o)n.” 

“Why did you change the metre, Larc?” 
asked John. 

“I didn’t.” 

“You certainly did.” 

“Oh, no,” growled Larcum. “You haven’t 
seen what I mean, yet. This kind of poetry that 
I write is like some of the Eastern sort. When 
I say it’s like some one-horse railroad that 
doesn’t begin anywhere nor go anywhere, then 
my cultured friends from Boston will say it is 
of the deep kind — too deep for a plain busi- 
ness man like me. Pass it on, Jack. Perhaps 
some one else will appreciate it. You didn’t 
think I could do it, did you?” he demanded, as 
each boy in turn perused the lines. “Well, I 
can. The prairies are as good for inspiration as 
old tombstones, let me tell you. You haven’t 
ever seen anything like that. It takes time to see 
what I mean, and there will be plenty of friends 
for me sometime in the distant future. I’ve 


320 FOUR BOYS IN LAND OF COTTON 


noticed that what people don’t understand and 
what they don’t read, they’re most likely to praise, 
and say that it is the very best up to date. Now 
look at Milton’s ‘ Paradise Lost.’ Everybody says 
it’s one of the greatest poems ever written. But 
did any one of you fellows ever read it ? Did you 
ever know anybody that ever did, either?” 

“I read it in school,” declared John. 

“All of it?” 

“Why — no — not all of it,” laughed John. 

“That’s it! That’s just it! That’s what I 
mean, exactly,” declared Larcum. “Now you 
read a little of it because you had to. It was 
required. But as for reading any more of it than 
you had to, you’re no more for that than any one 
of us — even Lee. And yet you’d look me in the 
eye as wise and solemn as old Minerva’s owl — 
it was Minerva’s, wasn’t it ? — and talk to me about 
the appreciation of the profound poem. And you 
hadn’t read it yourself, and wouldn’t know what 
a good deal of it meant if you had. But that 
would be the very reason why you’d say ’twas 
great. That’s just the way it is with me,” 
declared Larcum, as he rose from his seat. 
“You don’t see what I mean in my poem, and 
therefore it is a great poem. Good-by.” 


A PRIVATE AUTOMOBILE 


321 


A half-hour afterward the four boys were stand- 
ing in the street in front of the hotel. “Did 
you make arrangements for an automobile, 
Jack?” asked Scott of his friend, who had just 
returned from the office of the hotel. 

“Can’t say I did. No public ones are here.” 

“There must be. I’ll go in myself and see — ” 
began Scott. 

“Hold on a bit, Scott,” called John. “Wait a 
minute.” Then, turning to a beautiful automo- 
bile directly in front of the boys, he said to the 
colored chauffeur, “Is this a private automo- 
bile?” 

“Yes, sir.” 

“Whose is it?” 

“It belongs to Mr. Andrew Jackson — ” 

“That’s all right,” interrupted John, bestow- 
ing a quick glance upon Lee. “We’ll get 
right in. We might as well use his as any 
other.” 

“I can’t do that, Jack! We mustn’t run off 
with a man’s machine like this!” protested Lar- 
cum. 

“Get right in, Larc ! Be quick about it, too !” 
Lee and Scott were already seated, and John at 
once took his place beside the driver. “Coming, 


322 FOUR BOYS IN LAND OF COTTON 


Larc?” demanded John. “Of course if you don’t 
care to — ” 

The huge Larcum suddenly stepped on board, 
no longer protesting, and casting himself on the 
seat between Lee and Scott, he forced his lighter 
companions into closer quarters. There was no 
opportunity for either to voice his complaint, 
however, for in a moment the automobile had 
started, and was moving swiftly along the some- 
what narrow street. The chauffeur did not ask 
any one as to the way in which he was to go, nor 
did any of the boys speak to him, but in a brief 
time the speed had become so great that conver- 
sation was impossible. 

The interest of the young travellers was manifest 
when they turned into a wide and beautiful street 
with handsome residences on either side, and 
lawns that were indicative of the care they re- 
ceived from their owners. In a brief time the 
automobile turned into the spacious grounds of 
Vanderbilt University, and the imposing buildings 
and stately structures caused even John to glance 
meaningly at his companions. Larcum had not 
spoken once since they had departed from the 
hotel, and that he was still puzzled to understand 
what the trip meant, and how it was that John 



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A PRIVATE AUTOMOBILE 


323 


apparently had dared to appropriate the auto- 
mobile to their own uses, was evident, although he 
no longer uttered any protest. 

Soon the boys turned into the turnpike, and ran 
for several miles out over the road by which the 
armies, of which John had spoken before the young 
travellers had arrived at Nashville, had marched; 
then swiftly back into the city they turned, and 
after the beautiful streets of residences had been 
inspected, and a tour had been made of the business 
sections of the thriving city, the bridge over the 
Cumberland River was crossed, and the river itself 
— in certain times of the year a busy scene — was 
in plain sight. At last the chauffeur turned up the 
hill toward the capitol and halted near the grounds, 
so that the boys might enter and inspect the 
beautiful structure. The imposing tower, the 
Ionic porticos, the beautiful columns, — for the 
capitol was modelled after a Greek design, — said 
to have been copied from the choragic monument 
of Lysicrates at Athens — were all inspected, and 
then careful attention was given to the pictures 
and to the statues within and without the stately 
building. 

“There’s your friend, Jack,” called Larcum, 
pointing to a near-by monument as he spoke. 


324 FOUR BOYS IN LAND OF COTTON 


“Yes, there’s Andrew Jackson/ 7 acknowledged 
John, as the boys halted. ‘ ‘ Just look at that face, 
boys. Do you wonder people called him Old 
Hickory?” 

“Hardly. And I don’t wonder that men, 
babies, streets, buildings, are all named for him,” 
laughed Scott. “Where do we go now, Jack?” 
he added, as the boys resumed their seats in the 
automobile. 

“Don’t ask me. I don’t know any more about 
it than you do,” replied John, lightly. 

The driver apparently required no information, 
and at once started swiftly on a way that soon led 
out beyond the limits of the city. On, among 
and beyond the beautiful towering hills, the party 
was borne, and Larcum was at last unable to 
conceal his anxiety. He was about to offer some 
vigorous protests, when the machine suddenly 
turned into some well-kept grounds, and in the 
building before them every boy recognized The 
Hermitage — the home to which Andrew Jack- 
son had retired after his second term as President 
of the United States, and where he died. 

“Andrew Jackson forever — and everywhere!” 
declared Scott, when the four boys had inspected 
the building and returned to their seats. 


A PRIVATE AUTOMOBILE 


325 


“ There are worse men than he was,” said Lee. 

“True, my friend,” admitted Larcum. “But 
Fm hungry. I can’t satisfy my appetite by just 
seeing monuments of even such a man as Andrew 
J. Let’s go back to the hotel.” 

John did not speak, but the automobile was 
moving swiftly, and in a brief time the boys 
were once more in Nashville. The machine was 
stopped in front of a beautiful house, and John at 
once leaped out. “Come on, boys, we’ll go in and 
see if we can get some luncheon.” 

“But this isn’t a restaurant. It’s a private 
house,” protested Larcum. 

“Never mind. Come right along,” said John, 
glibly. And leading the way, he advanced in 
apparent confidence to the front door, and at once 
pushed the button to announce the presence of the 
four boys. 


CHAPTER XXVI 

A THEATRICAL TROUPE 

The mystery was not explained until after the 
young travellers had been admitted into the house 
and greeted by Mrs. Bayne, in response to whose 
words of welcome John said: “I received Mr. 
Bayne’s telegram last night. It was good of him 
to send his automobile around to our hotel this 
morning and give us such a ride as we have had. 
You may be sorry, Mrs. Bayne, that you insisted 
upon having four such hungry travellers as we are 
to lunch with you,” John added with a laugh, as 
he presented each of his friends in turn. He was 
not unaware of the shy glance of understanding 
that passed among the boys, but he did not 
deem it necessary to appear to be mindful of it. 
There were times when it was wise to impress 
upon his friends the fact that “he himself knew 
a few things, and some others also.” 

In a brief time the hostess, who was a warm 

326 


A THEATRICAL TROUPE 


327 


friend of John’s father and mother, — and indeed the 
reason why Mr. Bayne himself had failed to come 
to the hotel, was because he had been compelled 
to take an early train from Nashville, and had 
started for Boston, — had made her young guests 
all feel thoroughly at home, and when her two 
daughters greeted the travellers when they re- 
turned to the reception room, it was plain that even 
Larcum’s feeling of mystery had given place to 
one that at least was more agreeable. 

In the afternoon, a ride up the Cumberland 
River on a small yacht which belonged to the 
Baynes, added much to the enjoyment of the boys, 
and when at last, late at night, they returned to 
their hotel, they all agreed that the day had been 
one of the best they had ever experienced, and every 
one was warm in his praise of the hospitality that 
was so much more marked than that to which 
they were accustomed in the region of their own 
homes. 

On the following morning the train was taken 
for Memphis, and the ride, though it was through 
a not uninteresting country, was less enjoyable 
because of the heat. The villages through which 
they passed were for the greater part small, and 
lacked the thrifty care which make so many of 


328 FOUR BOYS IN LAND OF COTTON 


the Northern villages attractive. Negroes of 
every shade of color, from black to white, were 
in evidence everywhere. The woods and fields 
evidently abounded in small game and birds, 
and evidences were not lacking that the game 
laws were not over-strictly complied with, a fact 
that aroused Larcum’s indignation, and caused 
him to threaten to report the misdeeds to the 
proper authorities. 

“We’ll have dinner soon,” said Larcum, for the 
twentieth time, as he pulled his watch from his 
pocket and glanced eagerly at it. “Put a diner 
on at the next junction.” 

“I’m beginning to understand how you feel, 
Larc,” sighed Scott. “There! That must be 
the junction,” he added hastily, as the locomotive 
sent forth its shriek. 

“Right!” exclaimed Larcum, at once rising 
from his seat and going to the rear of the car. 
His comrades speedily joined him, and their 
interest was great when it was found that three 
cars — one of which was the diner — were to be 
added to their train. 

“We’ll be ready to start for that car,” said 
Larcum, positively, “just as soon as this train 
pulls out again. Keep close to me, fellows !” 


A THEATRICAL TROUPE 


329 


“We shan't have any trouble, Larc. The 
train isn't crowded," said Scott. 

“You don't know what’s on those other cars. 
We can't take any chances," retorted Larcum. 

Without waiting for the “first call for dinner," 
as soon as the train was in motion, the four boys 
hastened into the car behind their own to pass on 
to the dining car beyond. They were too intent 
upon their own purposes to be aware of certain 
signs of excitement in the car as they passed 
through it, but when they came out upon the 
platform the sounds that came from the car ahead 
were unmistakable. Shouts, cries, screams were 
mingled, and the boys all stopped abruptly. 

“What's that?" asked Larcum, excitedly. 
Then, without waiting for a reply, he pushed 
forward, closely followed by his three companions. 

When the door into the adjoining car was opened, 
it was at once apparent that it was occupied by a 
theatrical troupe of some kind, and a feeling of 
disgust swept over the faces of the boys at the 
sight. The air of the car was vile, and the ap- 
pearance of the players corresponded to the air 
they were breathing. To John's surprise, he per- 
ceived that most of the occupants of the car were 
young — few being older than the four young 


330 FOUR BOYS IN LAND OF COTTON 


travellers. Girls with hair uncombed, some read- 
ing novels, some playing with dogs, and others 
engaged in a noisy game of cards, and one girl — 
the only one to have a seat to herself — was fon- 
dling a gayly bedecked monkey. Others, sleepily 
or stupidly, were gazing out of the windows. The 
general aspect of untidiness, the bedraggled con- 
dition of all the occupants, male and female, were 
so digusting to John that his first impulse was to 
turn back from the ill-smelling, belittered car and 
its noisy, vulgar occupants. Before he had acted, 
however, he found a pompous man of perhaps 
thirty years of age, standing directly before the 
four boys, and now including them in the noisy 
tirade which he had been giving an angry man 
near by — one who plainly did not belong to the 
company and had been intercepted on his way to 
the dining car. 

“ Yo' can't go in that diner," declared the man, 
loudly. 

“Why can't we?" demanded Larcum. 

“We've reserved all the tables." 

“Who has reserved them?" thundered Larcum. 

“We have. We're the ‘ Deserted Bride' 
theatrical company. We have held all seats." 

“Any of you in the diner now?" 


A THEATRICAL TROUPE 


331 


“A few.” 

“Why don’t the rest of you go in?” 

“Because we aren’t quite ready,” retorted the 
man, impudently. 

“Then you can’t hold the tables,” said Larcum, 
quietly, as he began to push forward. 

“That’s right,” said the man, who had been 
forbidden to move forward by the belligerent 
actor. “They can’t hold the tables.” 

“We have held them. We’ve reserved every 
one!” said the man, loudly. “You can’t go 
through this car to get there.” 

“I can try it,” said the other man, quietly. 

“Stay back there!” shouted the actor. “We 
shan’t let you through this car!” As he spoke, 
the man turned and glanced at the male members 
of the troupe, and it was evident they were pre- 
pared for trouble, and meant to block the way of 
any who might attempt to move on toward the 
dining car. The other man, however, was en- 
deavoring to push past the protesting actor, and 
as he did so the latter suddenly struck him in the 
face. 

Instantly the car became the scene of indescrib- 
able confusion. Some of the “ladies” shouted 
their encouragement in billingsgate to the men 


332 FOUR BOYS IN LAND OF COTTON 


of the company, who instantly rushed to the aid 
of their companion. The man who had been 
struck was now beside himself with anger, and was 
himself striking out in every direction, his face 
purple and his blows powerless. 

“Go slow, Larc,” cautioned Scott, as he per- 
ceived the big tackle preparing to rush upon his 
“foes.” “Don't hurt any one! Let’s push on 
through and leave the mess.” 

The advice was doubtless well meant, but was 
impossible of fulfilment, for the aisle was filled. 
Suddenly the powerful Larcum reached over and 
seized the noisy actor, who now for the second 
time had struck the passenger, and lifting him 
bodily, he raised his own foot to the seat, placed 
the kicking, yelling player across his knee, and 
bestowed three resounding slaps upon him that 
were heard throughout the car. 

Some of the watching “ladies” screamed with 
laughter, and volunteered remarks to the sufferer 
that were not exceptionally polite or refined, but 
others were made still more angry at the sight, 
and in their shrillest tones called upon their male 
companions to defend their comrade. For a 
moment there was every prospect of a battle. 
The young giant Larcum stood facing the crowd, 


A THEATRICAL TROUPE 


333 


his victim still held across his knee. The size 
of Larcum, . his manifest strength and apparent 
fearlessness, were enough to cause even the 
“actors” to falter, and before they could collect 
themselves or prepare for a united attack, Larcum 
suddenly plunged through the aisle, his victim 
now held in such a manner that his head could be 
used as a battering-ram, and his feet, as he kicked 
out in every direction behind, threatening to do 
even greater execution. 

The shouting players scattered before the un- 
expected onslaught, but not before the feet of the 
human ram had done some execution. One of 
the actors, who had received full in his face the 
force of one of the most vicious kicks, was instantly 
filled with resentment toward his own comrade 
and forcefully betrayed his “irritation” by the 
blows he rained upon the man as he passed. 
Another was struck upon the head in such a man- 
ner that his silk hat was driven forcefully down 
over his eyes, and so tightly that for a time the 
victim was unable to free himself. However, 
there did not appear to be any further disposition 
to attack the young giant, and at once his three 
companions pressed forward through the swaying 
car, pushing past the actor whom Larcum had 


334 FOUR BOYS IN LAND OF COTTON 


tossed into a seat, ignoring the cat-calls and gibes 
that greeted their triumphal advance. No sooner, 
however, had they passed through the doorway 
than the door was hastily closed and locked be- 
hind them. 

“ Never mind a little thing like that,” said 
Scott, good-naturedly. “ We’re safe now, any- 
way, and we can stay in the diner all the way to 
Memphis, if we have to.” 

“But this door is locked !” shouted Larcum, as 
he grasped and shook the knob fiercely. 

It quickly was evident that Larcum had spoken 
truly, for the door did not yield to his attempts 
to open it. Then it was that the wrath of the 
young giant broke forth. Up to this time he had 
not minded the words or actions of the player 
folk, and his seizing of the offending actor and 
compelling him to serve as an unwilling battering- 
ram had been mainly a way of disclosing his own 
indifference to threat and boast alike. 

But to be shut out of the dining car! To be 
threatened with the loss of his dinner ! Ah, that 
was a more serious matter, even more serious than 
the prospect of a ride all the way to Memphis on 
the dusty and exposed platform of the car upon 
which he and his three friends were now standing. 


A THEATRICAL TROUPE 


335 


Turning again to the door, Larcum once more 
seized the knob and shook it until it seemed as if 
the very door itself must give way before the 
onslaught. 

“Open this door!” he shouted, in tones easily 
heard above the roar of the train. “Open it! 
You open it, or I will !” 

As if to make matters still worse, the grinning 
faces of two or three of the actors could be seen 
peering through the glass in the door behind the 
four young travellers. The sight was sufficient, of 
itself, to increase Larcum’s rage, and his calls and 
attacks upon the locked door redoubled. 

“Ah ! I thought I’d bring them,” growled the 
young giant, as the face of the man in charge of 
the dining car appeared. “Open this door!” de- 
manded Larcum. “Open it, I tell you!” 

The man, however, shook his head and pointed 
to the car in the rear. Ignoring the rebuff, Lar- 
cum’s efforts redoubled, and when the man 
hastily disappeared, Larcum’s voice rose to the 
highest pitch it had as yet attained. 

In a brief time the man returned, and when 
Larcum’s demands were again intensified, he at 
last slowly and hesitatingly opened the door a 
few inches. 


336 FOUR BOYS IN LAND OF COTTON 

Instantly Larcum pushed forward, and his own 
might and that of his three companions could not 
be withstood. The door moved backward, and 
the unfortunate man was crowded into the corner. 

“We want some dinner,” roared Larcum, when 
the door had been closed and the man released. 

“We aren’t serving any dinner.” 

“Why not? What is this dining car for? 
Why do you advertise that ‘ at the junction a 
dining car will be added, and an excellent dinner 
will be served ’ ? Is the car full ? Every place 
taken?” 

“No, sir. No, sir. But — but we were afraid 
of trouble. The theatre people demanded that 
the tables should all be reserved. We didn’t want 
any trouble, captain, so we decided to lock the 
doors and not serve anything.” 

“Well, you can serve us, can’t you?” 

“I don’t see how we can. You see, we can’t 
do for one what — ” 

“I see you can give us something to eat — just 
as you advertised you would, and just as we 
bought our tickets believing you would, too. I am 
connected with the T. G. and P. myself. I know 
a little of what is due, and you can get us some- 
thing to eat, I know you can.” 


A THEATRICAL TROUPE 


337 


“I'll try. HI see what can be done for you,” 
said the man, hesitatingly, as he locked the door, 
without glancing at the faces in the rear car. 

The four boys at once moved forward, and ignor- 
ing the smiling waiters, took seats at a table in 
the shade and gave their order. Nor was it long 
before they were served with an excellent dinner, 
and with great promptness the good nature of 
Larcum was restored. 

“What do you say, boys?” he inquired, when at 
last they had all been served. “Shall we stay 
where we are, or go back to our car?” 

“The door is locked. We can't get through,” 
replied Scott. 

“We can try, can't we?” said Larcum, as he 
arose. 

“That was great, Larc!” exclaimed Lee. 
“The way you brought these men to time is 
the best I ever saw, sir. A gentleman stands up 
for his rights. There was a big nigger that 
bumped into my cousin on the street the other 
day, and my cousin promptly knocked him down.” 

“Is that your idea of a gentleman, Lee?” 
inquired John, quietly. 

“Yes, sir. I wouldn’t take that from any- 
body.” 


338 FOUR BOYS IN LAND OF COTTON 


“I simply can’t imagine myself knocking a 
man down for such a thing as that. I should 
feel that I’d shown I wasn’t a gentleman, instead 
of showing I was one. Come on!” he added. 
“ Let’s go back to our car.” 


CHAPTER XXVII 


SUPERSTITIONS 

“Come on, fellows, we’ll form a 'V/ only we’ll 
have it in a straight line,” called Larcum, laugh- 
ingly, as he opened the door of the car. 

The door into the car, which was occupied by 
the theatrical people, was still locked, as Larcum 
discovered when he attempted to open it, and the 
angry young giant turned back to demand of the 
trainman that the way should be opened for Itfie 
boys to return to their own car. Reluctantly, 
and with many words of foreboding, the man at 
last complied with the request, and as soon as the 
door was unlocked, Larcum turned to his com- 
panions and said quickly: “Now, then, boys! 
Every one with his hands on the shoulders of 
the fellow in front of him ! We’ll have a lock- 
step. Follow me!” 

As the four boys entered the car, they were 
greeted with a derisive shout, and for a moment 
there was every appearance of threatening trouble. 

339 


340 FOUR BOYS IN LAND OF COTTON 


The boys moved forward quietly, striving to 
ignore the vile odors and the mocking words of 
the people, and they had gone halfway through 
the car, and as yet there were no open signs of an 
attack. At that point, however, they were com- 
pelled to stop, as three of the “ladies” of the 
troupe took a position in the aisle directly in front 
of the boys and refused to move. The quietly 
spoken request of Larcum for permission for 
himself and his friends to pass was greeted with 
noisy laughter, and for a moment Scott, who was 
directly behind the leader, was fearful of trouble. 
The derisive shouts and calls of the members of 
the troupe, all of whom were now standing and 
watching the travellers in the aisle, redoubled, and 
the expression on the face of Larcum increased the 
fear in the hearts of his companions. 

Quietly, after his requests had been ignored, 
Larcum took one of the “ladies” by the shoulders 
and gently pushed her from the aisle, and as his 
friends instantly pressed forward, the way was 
cleared, although the actress rudely seized Lar- 
cum’s cap and thrust it under the nearest seat. 

“Go ahead, Larc,” said Scott, in a low voice, 
and the quartette began to move forward. The 
shouts and calls were redoubled, but no outbreak 


SUPERSTITIONS 


341 


occurred until the boys opened the door to step 
out upon the platform, and then they were assailed 
with a shower of bananas and partly eaten fruit. 
The car itself was in the utmost confusion, but 
Scott, as he felt the muscles in his friend’s arm 
suddenly contract, instantly pushed him forward, 
and almost before the huge Larcum could protest, 
the door was closed, and the party was safe from 
the disgusting attacks of the “ artists” who had 
molested them. 

“That’s all right, Larc,” said John, soothingly. 
“You don’t want to get down to the level of those 
men and women. We’re all right now.” 

“Did you ever see anything like that!” roared 
the young giant, as he glanced back at the car in 
the rear. “I wonder what — ” 

“Never mind now, Larc,” broke in Lee. “We 
are well out of it all, and have done nothing to get 
our names in the papers.” 

“But wasn’t that the worst you ever saw!” 
continued Larcum. “And that — that hussy 
grabbed my cap, too ! I need it. I believe I’ll 
go back and get it!” he continued, as he partly 
rose from his seat. 

“No you won’t, Larc. You won’t go back there 
for a dozen caps. It isn’t worth it. Besides, 


342 FOUR BOYS IN LAND OF COTTON 


you may get your cap again, anyway,” said 
John. 

“How?” 

“The porter or one of the trainmen can get it 
for you.” 

Appeased in a measure by his friends, Larcum 
at last became quiet, and the boys were soon in- 
terested in the sights which they could see from 
the windows of the car. The country evidently was 
not very thickly populated, and the straggling little 
villages, at some of which the train stopped, were 
much alike, at least in the presence and numbers 
of mules and negroes that could be seen in front 
of the village stores. 

“Lee,” asked Scott, “do you think we’ll find 
Andrew Jackson as much in evidence in Memphis 
as we did in Nashville?” 

“I can’t say,” said Lee. “Tennessee surely 
does feel proud of Old Hickory. According to 
Jack’s story, there is good ground for the feeling, 
too.” 

“What do you know about this city we’re 
coming to, Jack?” inquired Scott. 

“Memphis? Oh, it’s a great town. According 
to the best I’ve been able to find out, it’s some- 
thing like a Western town planted down here on 


SUPERSTITIONS 


343 


the banks of the Mississippi. It is full of busi- 
ness, and very much alive. A great point from 
which cotton and a good many other things are 
shipped.” 

“Is it historical, Jack?” demanded Scott, 
banteringly. 

“Yes, it is,” retorted John, “at least I found 
it was pretty well known for some things. For 
example, in 1878, in the terrible scourge of yel- 
low fever of that year, Memphis and New Orleans 
suffered more than any other towns in the South. 
Almost everybody that could get out of the 
towns left, but a good many, of course, had to 
stay right where they were. The whole country 
sent money, nurses, medicine, supplies to Mem- 
phis, for everybody wanted to help. It takes a 
time like that, let me tell you, to show just what 
the real feeling of one part of the country is for 
another. It’s like a family — sometimes, when 
everything is all right, there may come some pretty 
decided difference of opinion, but if real trouble 
comes to any one of the members, then all the 
others just turn in to help. That’s the way it is, 
isn’t it, Lee?” 

“Yes, sir. Yes, sir. When the Spanish War 
broke out, the South furnished more than its 


344 FOUR BOYS IN LAND OF COTTON 


share of men. Yes, sir; ‘ blood is thicker than 
water/ every time !” responded Lee. 

“That’s right, Lee,” said Scott, warmly. “But, 
Jack,” he added, “we must know a little about 
what happened here in Memphis. Wasn’t there 
something going on here in the Civil War?” 

“There certainly was, ” responded John. “The 
greatest thing I could find was Forrest’s raid.” 

“When was that? What was it?” inquired 
Larcum. 

“Well, it was in the latter part of the war. 
You see that Grant had by that time become the 
most prominent of the Union generals. He had 
been made lieutenant-general, and had been given 
the command of all the armies. He went into 
Virginia, with the Army of the Potomac, to try to 
corner Lee.” 

“TelJ us how many men General Lee had and 
how many Grant had,” suggested Lee. 

“Well, General Grant had about twice as many 
as Lee had — a hundred and twenty-two thousand, 
if I remember it.” 

“That’s it !” exclaimed Lee, eagerly. “It took 
twice as many men as General Lee had in his army 
to stop him.” 

“That’s not so bad,” said John, calmly. “It 


SUPERSTITIONS 


345 


makes all the difference in the world whether 
you are fighting on the inside or outside of a 
circle, doesn’t it? Sometimes numbers don’t 
count. Perhaps you have heard of the defence 
of the pass of Thermopylae.” 

“Yes, I’ve heard about it,” said Lee, quickly, 
“but—” 

“Never mind, Lee,” broke in Scott. “We 
know to-day that all our men on each side were 
just about as near perfection as could be. What 
we want now are facts, that’s all.” 

“When Grant took the Army of the Potomac 
into Virginia,” continued John, “he left General 
Sherman to try to meet ‘Joe’ Johnston. Three 
armies had been acting in the west : the Army of 
the Mississippi, which had taken Vicksburg ; the 
Army of the Tennessee, which had fought at 
Murfreesboro; and the Army of the Ohio, which 
had fought its way through eastern Tennessee to 
Knoxville. All these three armies were now 
brought together under General Sherman at 
Chattanooga, so that he had about a hundred 
thousand men under him. His plan was to keep 
the Confederate armies in the west where they 
were, or anyway, prevent them from going, and 
then drive Johnston’s weaker army through the 


346 FOUR BOYS IN LAND OF COTTON 


mountains, to the open country beyond Atlanta, 
and destroy it before he could go to the help of 
Lee. To make this certain, Sherman led an army 
early in that year — ” 

“What year was it, Jack?” inquired Larcum. 

“Eighteen sixty-four,” replied John. “Sher- 
man took his army eastward to Meridian, in 
Mississippi, and destroyed all the railroads in 
every direction, so that it would be out of the 
question for any army to get supplies in that part 
of the country. Grant and Sherman agreed that 
they would both begin their forward movements 
on the same day.” 

“Mention the day, my learned Bostonian,” 
said Scott. 

“May 5, 1864, and when the real fighting began, 
neither of the Confederate armies was allowed a 
minute for rest. It was ‘ keeping everlastingly at 
it/ then, that brought success — ” 

“That’s the secret of all my success in business,” 
suggested Larcum. “My father told me to do 
that, and I did. If I hadn’t, I never should have 
become a great business man at six per — ” 

“But what about this raid of Forrest’s at 
Memphis, Jack?” interrupted Scott. 

“Before General Sherman took command of 


SUPERSTITIONS 


347 


the army that was to go against Johnston, he led 
an expedition east from Vicksburg. His object 
really was to get to Mobile from the land side. 
As I said, the expedition got as far as Meridian all 
right, but its heavy cavalry column, which was 
coming from Tennessee, was whipped by Forrest ; 
so Sherman, after he had destroyed all the property 
I was telling you about, went back to Vicksburg. 
Forrest, who had good reason to feel proud of 
what he had done, passed on into Tennessee on a 
raid, and right near Memphis he captured Fort 
Pillow. The garrison there was made up almost 
entirely of negro troops, and Forrest’s men killed 
nearly all of them. It is sometimes spoken of as 
the 1 Massacre at Fort Pillow.’” 

“We don’t call it that down here,” said Lee, 
warmly. 

“Very likely,” responded John, dryly. “We 
wouldn’t agree on the name, so we’ll let it go just 
on the fact. I’m just telling you what took place 
at or near Memphis.” 

“That was the hardest part of the whole thing,” 
persisted Lee. 

“What was the hardest ? ” said Larcum, bluntly. 

“Making soldiers out of negroes!” 

“I thought you said the negroes were no good,” 


348 FOUR BOYS IN LAND OF COTTON 


retorted Larcum. “If they weren’t any good, 
and you can’t teach them, I don’t see why you 
should care if the Union armies did try to make 
soldiers out of them. They were fighting for 
their freedom, too, weren’t they? I’d do that, 
and so would you, too, Lee. Come, be fair.” 

“I am ‘fair,’” said Lee, hotly. “You all don’t 
know what you’re talking about ; if you had to live 
down here for a year, you’d sing a different song.” 

“What’s the trouble, Lee ?” said Larcum, sooth- 
ingly. 

“You can’t take an ignorant, superstitious 
negro — ” 

“Is he more superstitious than white men, 
Lee?” interrupted John. 

Lee laughed derisively, and made no response. 

“I tell you it’s so !” persisted John, now some- 
what aroused. “Napoleon was always super- 
stitious. He believed a certain star was 'his 
star,’ and when it could not be seen, his luck went 
from him. Then there was his empty-headed 
nephew, Napoleon III. — why, he hired an Ameri- 
can spiritualist, and he got into trouble over 
Maximilian in Mexico, just because he believed 
everything the spiritualist told him. The father 
of Nicholas once sent his head astrologer off to 


SUPERSTITIONS 


349 


Siberia because the train on which his august 
majesty was being carried was wrecked.” 

“Oh, well, you couldn’t expect anything from 
such people,” laughed Lee. 

“But what would you say about such an ‘iron 
man’ as Bismarck being afraid to sit at a table 
if the number of guests happened to be thirteen ? 
Lord Byron always thought Friday was his un- 
lucky day, and one of the old English philoso- 
phers, who said he didn’t believe in God, was all 
the time afraid of the devil. Even General 
Grant believed in dreams, and Admiral Farragut 
said he heard a voice in the very thick of the fight 
at Mobile Bay, saying, ‘ Keep on ! Keep on ! ’ 
Lincoln was mightily stirred by a dream he had, 
Blaine was superstitious about ever turning back 
to get anything he’d forgotten, and Secretary 
Folger believed that the number * three ’ played a 
great part in his life. Oh, no, Lee, superstition is 
not always a sign of ignorance ; at least some of 
the brightest men have been superstitious about 
some things.” 

“I don’t know about that,” retorted Lee. 
“I never had any such nonsensical feeling in 
all my life. I reckon I’m a bit like old Publius 
Claudius on his way to fight the Carthaginians, 


350 FOUR BOYS IN LAND OF COTTON 


when one day one of his augurs rushed up to him 
and declared the sacred chickens which they 
had on board the Roman ships wouldn’t eat. Old 
P. Claudius roars out: ‘They won’t eat, eh? 
Then let them drink !’ and he threw every chicken 
overboard into the Mediterranean.” 

“I read somewhere that when William the 
Conqueror landed on the shore of England,” said 
Scott, “that he slipped and fell on his face. His 
men were frightened half out of their wits at such 
a bad sign; but W. Conqueror just grabbed both 
his hands full of English dirt, and said, ‘ Thus do I 
proclaim myself lord of England.’ That’s the 
way I felt about it myself. I agree with Lee. Is 
it true, Jack, that all the people in Boston are 
superstitious ? ” 

“I can’t answer for them all,” retorted John, 
with a laugh, “but I do believe that some people 
find out some things in a way you can’t explain.” 

“That’s so,” said Lee, soberly. “I was reading 
only the other day about a Northerner who was 
down here, and he claimed he could tell just by 
the expression of the face, the politics of every 
man in the crowd that was sitting in front of the 
store in the little two-by-four town where he 
happened to be. The crowd laughed, and dared 


SUPERSTITIONS 


351 


him to try it. So the man began and pointed to 
one man, and said, ‘You’re a prohibitionist.’ 
‘Correct, stranger/ the victim said. ‘And you’re a 
Cleveland democrat,’ he said, pointing to another. 
‘Right you are/ said the second victim; and the 
crowd began to sit up and stare. ‘And you’re a 
Republican/ the man declared, as he pointed at a 
third specimen. ‘No, stranger, ye’re mistook/ 
said the victim, shaking his head solemnly. ‘I’m 
no Republican. I’m sick ; that’s what makes me 
look that way.’” 

“Is that a true story, Lee Harris?” demanded 
Larcum. 

“It’s as true as all this stuff Jack has been 
tellin’, I reckon.” 

“But I read what I told you,” said John, 
quickly, “and it was only the other day, too.” 

“What did you read it in?” 

“One of the Boston papers.” 

“That explains it all, then,” declared Lee, 
lightly, as he arose from his seat. “This is Mem- 
phis,” he added, as he peered from the window. 
“Maybe Larc’s trunk is here.” 


CHAPTER XXVIII 

ON THE BANKS OF THE MISSISSIPPI 

The rain had been falling steadily, and when 
the boys departed from the train upon its arrival 
at the station, the condition of the assembled 
crowd, and of the streets as well, was most for- 
bidding. All classes and conditions of men, 
women, and children were to be seen, bedrag- 
gled, many of them of strange appearance, some 
evidently strange to the city; and the sight of 
those who were in the waiting-room which was 
reserved for negroes impressed the young travel- 
ers not least of all. 

“Hungry, Larc?” demanded John, with a wry 
face, as he indicated a place where refreshments 
might be secured. 

“Lost my appetite/’ Larcum retorted solemnly. 
“Come on, fellows ! Let’s make for our hotel and 
get out of this.” 

In response to their queries, the boys were 

352 


ON THE BANKS OF THE MISSISSIPPI 353 


informed that they could take a street-car on the 
opposite side of the street which would convey 
them to their hotel, which was a half mile or more 
distant. As Larcum was still hatless, the delay 
on the corner in the midst of the falling rain did 
not tend to soothe his ruffled feelings, but in a 
brief time the car was seen approaching, and the 
waiting boys scrambled on board, along with the 
crowd that also had gathered. 

“ Other seats, gentlemen,” said the conductor 
to the boys, when the car started. 

“You don’t want the ‘Jim Crow’ seats, boys,” 
explained Lee, as he indicated the part of the car 
which was reserved for “white folks.” 

John’s protest was left unspoken, but as all the 
seats were now occupied, and the young travellers 
were compelled to stand, it mattered little; and 
in a brief time they were in front of the hotel they 
were seeking, and had joined the line of muddy, 
wet, and protesting people that was moving tow- 
ard the office. 

“I’ll get the rooms, boys,” called Larcum, 
glibly, and leaving his companions, he took his 
place in the line that was steadily passing the 
clerk. 

A quarter of an hour elapsed before the young 


354 FOUR BOYS IN LAND OF COTTON 


giant rejoined his friends, and his face was a study 
as he drew near. 

“What’s the trouble, Larc?” demanded Scott, 
lightly. 

“'Trouble’? Trouble enough!” growled Lar- 
cum. “Can’t get a room, that’s all.” 

“'Can’t get a room’ ?” exclaimed John, aghast. 
“What do you mean?” 

“Just what I say. The clerk says there isn’t 
a vacant room even in the cellar.” 

“Never mind, Larc,” said Scott. “That’s one 
of the beauties of travel, you know. We’ll have to 
. take our chances. We can get something to eat, 
anyway, and if we have to sit up all night, why, 
it won’t kill us.” 

“I don’t want to sit up all night,” growled 
Larcum. “I told the clerk I was one of the 
T. G. and P. men, but he didn’t seem to mind. He 
said it wouldn’t make any difference if I was chief 
executor for King Leopold, he couldn’t let me have 
a room even in the ice-box.” 

“What shall we do, fellows?” said Lee, de- 
spondently. 

'"Do ’ ? Get a room, of course,” retorted Scott. 
“Let me try it.” 

“Go ahead,” said Larcum, glumly. 


ON THE BANKS OF THE MISSISSIPPI 355 


Scott at once made his way to the desk, where 
only a few men could now be seen, and engaged in 
a long and earnest conversation with the clerk. 

When he returned to the place where his friends 
were seated, he said, “Well, our trunks are here, 
anyway, fellows.” 

“Mine here, too?” demanded Larcum, quickly. 

“No, sir. Three trunks. Yours doesn't ap- 
pear to be in the list.” 

“Did you get a room, Scott?” inquired John. 

“I'll have one. It's the same as fixed. My, 
what a business town Memphis must be!” he 
added. “Just see the crowd!” 

The young traveller's words required no con- 
firmation, for a surging crowd of travellers almost 
filled the lobby and blocked the way for the people 
that still were coming into the hotel. 

“Wait for me, boys!” said Larcum, quickly. 
“I’m going to see if there is a telegram for me.” 

“We'll wait, all right,” laughed Scott. “There 
isn't anything else to do.” 

In a brief time Larcum returned with a yellow 
slip in his hand, and as his friends greeted him, he 
said soberly: “There aren't many roads like the 
T. G. and P. WTiat work some of these men do 
make.” 


356 FOUR BOYS IN LAND OF COTTON 


“ What's the trouble? Bad news, Larc?” 
inquired Lee. 

“No — not exactly. IVe got word of my 
trunk, that’s all.” 

“Is it here?” 

“No, sir, it isn’t here. I must visit some of the 
stores to-night, and invest in some more of the 
native products. No room, no trunk, — nothing 
but mud, rain — ” 

“The only way to travel is by boat,” laughed 
Scott, derisively. 

“Come on! Let’s get washed up and go in 
and get some dinner, anyway,” suggested Larcum. 
“We’ll need something to eat if we have to sit up 
all night.” 

The words were at once acted upon, and in a 
brief time the four boys were seated at a table in 
the dining room. There was still evidence of 
the crowded conditions, and the boys were all 
interested as they watched the men — for most 
of the guests were men — as they surged into the 
room. 

“I tell you what it is, Lee,” said Scott, “this is 
a fine-appearing body of men here. Is this a 
sample of the South?” 

“I reckon it is,” acknowledged Lee, with a 


ON THE BANKS OF THE MISSISSIPPI 35? 


laugh. “ There are some smart men in the land 

of cotton.” 

“A good deal more so than I expected,” as- 
sented John. 

“ That’s what travel does for a man,” laughed 
Lee, good-naturedly. “It's your man who never 
has been outside his own town who thinks that 
is all there is.” 

“If we don’t get a room, I’ll wish I was in my 
town all right,” grumbled Larcum. 

Their dinner was now served, and for a time 
even the growlings of the young giant ceased; 
and when the boys arose to depart from the 
dining room, the air of gloom in a measure, at 
least, had departed. 

Scott at once left his friends, and went once 
more to the desk. When he rejoined his com- 
panions his face was beaming as he said, “I have 
it all fixed, fellows — two rooms and a bath on the 
third floor front.” 

“How did you do it, Scott?” demanded Lar- 
cum. 

“I didn’t try to impress the clerk that I was 
some big man,” laughed Scott. “You can always 
‘ catch more flies with molasses than with vine- 
gar,’ ” he added. 


358 FOUR BOYS IN LAND OF COTTON 

“I don’t care as long as you got the rooms/’ 
retorted Larcum. “ Let’s go up and see them. 
Did you get the keys, Scott?” 

“I did,” responded Scott; and the boys at once 
sought the elevator. 

The following morning dawned clear, and the 
young travellers, immediately after breakfast, 
made their plans for the day. As they walked 
about the streets they were all alike impressed 
by the enterprise that was apparent everywhere. 
Great buildings — stores, offices, warehouses — 
were on every side, and when at last they halted 
before a small park in the midst of the business 
centres, they were silent for a time as they watched 
the hurrying people and saw, as they had in 
Richmond, almost countless numbers of gray 
squirrels that were scampering about. 

“ There he is !” Scott suddenly exclaimed. 

“ There who is?” demanded Larcum, gazing in 
the direction indicated by his friend. 

“ Andrew Jackson ! ” responded Scott. “I knew 
we’d find him. See that statue of him over 
there?” 

“That’s all right,” remarked John. “You 
mustn’t blame the people for making so much of 
all they have.” 


ON THE BANKS OF THE MISSISSIPPI 359 

1 ‘ I reckon you all will find about as much here 
as you will anywhere/' spoke up Lee, quickly, 
though he joined in the laugh of his friends that 
greeted his words. 

“Do you think the people here appreciate that, 
Lee?" asked John. 

“Yes, sir. I do, sir." 

“All right; I'll put it to the test," said John. 
“George," he added, as he turned to a colored 
boy who was standing near, evidently interested 
in the four boys. 

“Yaas, suh! Yaas, suh!" replied the young 
negro, as he stepped quickly forward, his face 
lighted up by an expression of hopefulness. 

“George, do you dwell in these parts?" 

“Yaas, suh. I reckon I do, boss." 

“Have you ever permitted your intellectual 
processes to enter the homogeneous secrets of 
this cold universe ? Have you ever intellectually 
measured the heroism that was displayed by 
the men of old? Do you appreciate the stern, 
hickory-like qualities of the one man whom 
Tennessee delights to honor?" 

“I dunno, boss," responded the young negro, 
grinning and scratching his woolly head. “I 
dunno 'bout dat. I has ter work for my livin'." 


360 FOUR BOYS IN LAND OF COTTON 

“Are you indeed a son of toil? Is it true that 
in your domicile all the members of your family 
circle, except your paternal ancestor, engage in 
humble and arduous labors ?” 

“I dunno, suh.” 

“Are you a captain, a judge, or a colonel?” 

The colored boy grinned, but made no reply. 

“George, by all that is great and good, let me 
ask you — is your name Andrew Jackson? ” 

“Yaas, suh! Yaas, suh! Dat’s my name, 
sho’ enough.” 

“Then if I give you this silver quarter, you will 
be careful of it, will you?” 

“I sho’ly will, boss.” 

John gave the delighted boy his promised 
reward, and then the four young travellers turned 
to the street that extended a long distance along 
the bluff that was high above the Mississippi. 
The sight which there could be seen was most 
impressive. Even at this time of the year, huge 
flat-bottomed boats loaded with cotton were 
much in evidence. The river itself, at this point 
a mile wide, and with islands between Memphis 
and the opposite shore, was an inspiring sight. 
The number of men at work on the docks, the 
evidences of enterprise to be seen on every side, 


ON THE BANKS OF THE MISSISSIPPI 361 


the imposing buildings, most of which plainly 
were new, were all interesting and impressive, and 
it was with a new feeling of respect for the town 
that the young travellers passed on. 

The sight of a superb library building attracted 
the attention of Scott, and he at once said, “ Let’s 
go in there, boys.” 

“You didn’t come away down here just to visit 
libraries, did you, Scott?” inquired John. “I can 
see plenty of them at home. Why, there isn’t 
a town of a thousand inhabitants in the whole 
state of Massachusetts that hasn’t a public 
library.” 

“Yes, sir; public libraries and modesty thrive 
wherever you New Englanders happen to set 
your feet,” laughed Lee. 

“Never you mind,” retorted John, “we don’t 
brag about what the whole world knows we don’t 
have, do we?” 

“Oh, quit ; and let’s go over and see this library, 
anyway,” suggested Larcum; and as John made 
no protest, they at once crossed the street and 
entered the building. Even John was impressed 
by the beauty of the building, but when they were 
all four recognized as strangers, and at once shown 
every courtesy, his surprise was marked. They 


362 FOUR BOYS IN LAND OF COTTON 


were taken to a room in which was displayed one 
of the finest collections of the pottery of the 
Mound Builders to be found in the entire land, and 
John and Scott were at once deeply interested. 
Larcum was indifferent, declaring that “he guessed 
the most of the people that used those dishes were 
dead, anyway, so it didn’t matter much to 
him.” 

“That collection,” declared John, when the 
boys, after they had expressed their gratitude for 
the kindness and the many courtesies shown them, 
had departed from the building, “is worth a trip 
from Boston, just to see it. Why, fellows, it’s 
magnificent! There you have the very fife of 
the Mound Builders spread right out before you. 
It’s a pity, though, that the collection should be 
left down here. It ought to be sent to — ” 

“Boston?” broke in Larcum. 

“Why, yes,” replied John, soberly. “What are 
you laughing at?” he demanded blankly, as all 
three of his companions shouted. “I didn’t in- 
tend to say anything so very funny.” 

“You didn’t, but you did, Jack; and that’s the 
funniest part of the whole thing,” declared Scott. 

“Just explain the joke to me, fellows,” said 
John. 


ON THE BANKS OF THE MISSISSIPPI 363 


But his friends only shouted, and the explana- 
tion was not given. 

In the afternoon, the boys were driven all about 
the city, and when at night they returned to their 
hotel, they were all positive that a more stirring, 
enterprising town than Memphis, it would be diffi- 
cult to find. 

“Now, fellows, I've got something to say/ 7 
said Larcum, after dinner. 

“You mean that you think you’ve got to 
'say something/ don 7 t you? 77 asked Scott. 

“No, I don’t. You noticed that telegram I had 
last night, didn’t you?” 

“Business men frequently receive telegrams,” 
responded John, “so I don’t fancy we were as 
much impressed as perhaps we ought to have 
been.” 

“I’ll have to leave you,” said Larcum, soberly. 

“What! You don’t mean that, Larc!” said 
Scott, quickly. 

“Yes, I mean it — every word of it. That 
message was important.” Larcum glanced so- 
berly at Scott and John, and sighed as he spoke. 

“That’s too bad,” declared Lee, sympathetically. 
“We can’t go on without you, Larc.” 

“Thank you. It warms my heart to feel there 


364 FOUR BOYS IN LAND OF COTTON 


is one true friend who will miss me. That tele- 
gram was about my trunk. I don’t mean to say 
I shan’t join you fellows again, but the thing for 
you to do is to keep right on, and after I shall have 
run the villain down, I’ll come on and join you.” 


CHAPTER XXIX 


A SLOW TRAIN THROUGH ARKANSAS 

“Do you really mean that you have word of 
your trunk, Larc?” demanded John. 

“I certainly do,” replied Larcum. “I know 
how you fellows are bothered by my telegrams, 
but I don’t see that I can help it. I’m a business 
man, at six per, and of course I can’t prevent these 
important matters from coming to me. That 
telegram I received back there at Richmond 
has upset every plan I have made.” 

“Bother your Richmond telegram, Larc!” 
exclaimed Scott. “We know all about that.” 

“You do?” said Larcum, in pretended surprise. 
“Well, this message is no fake. You can see for 
yourselves.” 

The young giant held forth the telegram, and 
John, taking it, read aloud : “Trunk at Vicksburg. 
Go there at once and secure it.” The message 
was signed by Larcum’s father, and there could be 
no question as to its genuineness. “What are 

365 


366 FOUR BOYS IN LAND OF COTTON 


we to do, Larc?” said John, blankly. “We have 
our tickets by the way of Little Rock.” 

“Keep right on,” replied Larcum. “You have 
had to make changes enough in your plans already 
on account of my messages. You don’t need to 
bother about my plans, for I’ll join you in Indian 
Territory.” 

“We shan’t let you go alone, Larc,” said Scott. 
“You might have a half dozen more messages, 
or fall in with another theatrical troupe, and 
'what would Larcie do then, poor thing?’ No, 
I’ll tell you what we’ll do. I’ll go with Larc, and 
Jack and Lee can keep right on. We won’t be 
more than a day or two late, and they can have 
everything fixed up for us when we come to Mus- 
kogee.” 

“But you have your tickets through Arkansas, 
Scott, too,” protested Lee. 

“I’ll fix that all right,” responded Scott, quickly. 
“Don’t say another word, for this is what we’ll 
do.” 

And “this” was what was done. Scott easily 
arranged the exchange of his tickets, and early on 
the following morning he and Larcum started 
southward, while Lee and John departed by the 
“Choctaw” road for Little Rock. 


A SLOW TRAIN THROUGH ARKANSAS 367 


It was a warm morning when the journey was 
resumed, but from the moment when John and 
Lee crossed the great bridge over the Missis- 
sippi, their interest in what they were seeing was 
so keen that even the absence of their two com- 
panions was hardly felt. The road led through 
a region that was scarcely populated, and what 
little hamlets they saw were for the most part 
lumber camps. The rude houses occupied by 
the families of the lumbermen were built high 
in the air, and located in the midst of swamps 
where the very houses were surrounded by water. 
Indeed, the frame houses had been erected upon 
piles, and John laughingly declared that “they 
were castles in the air, for a fact. ” Frequently a 
buggy left out to the weather could be seen, and the 
general air of dilapidation was almost appalling. 

“What timber is it that is cut here?” John 
asked of a man who was seated opposite to him- 
self and Lee. 

“Oak is the best,” replied the stranger, pleas- 
antly. “First time you were ever in this coun- 
try?” he inquired. 

“Yes, sir,” responded Lee. 

“How do you like it?” 

“It seems a bit forlorn,” said John, hesitatingly. 


368 FOUR BOYS IN LAND OF COTTON 


“I shouldn’t think it would be very healthy, with 
all this swamp right around the houses.” 

“Oh, the people don’t mind a little thing like 
the chills and fever. They get used to it. The 
whole State isn’t that way, though. I live in 
Arkansas myself, but I can’t say I feel very proud 
of it. I have sometimes thought that if the gov- 
ernment should offer a prize for the worst thing 
that could be produced, Arkansas could easily 
take the first prize in everything.” 

Both John and Lee stared in surprise at the 
stranger. Here was at last that rare specimen 
— a man who apparently did not think that the 
part of the country in which he lived was the 
choicest spot in all the land. 

“Oh, Arkansas has some good things,” the 
stranger added, with a laugh, as he perceived 
the look of surprise on the faces of the young 
travellers. “Our apples are the finest in the 
world ; our lumber is great ; we have plenty of coal ; 
we raise a right smart lot of cotton ; but I’m not 
bragging. You can see for yourselves what it 
is like, and this is as pretty a day as we have, 
sir.” 

“What do all these negroes do for a living?” 
inquired John. “We have passed a good many 


A SLOW TRAIN THROUGH ARKANSAS 369 


cabins, but I don’t see how the people make a 
living.” 

“Why, sir, the way they do is like this — the 
land is sublet. The owner rents it out in lots 
of ten or fifteen acres to the niggers, and they 
raise cotton.” 

“I don’t see how they can make a living,” 
said John. 

“They live — after a fashion. They raise corn 
and sorghum — that gives them their corn bread 
and molasses, you see. Then they raise a pig 
or two, and some chickens.” 

“But what do they do to get any money?” 
inquired John. 

“They raise cotton, sir. That is worth about 
fifty dollars a bale, gross, and nets them about half 
that, so that they get about two hundred and 
fifty dollars a year — that is, if they are not too 
shiftless to pick the cotton.” 

“Is this only the negroes you’re telling about?” 

“Mostly, sir, mostly; of course there are some 
of the poor whites who live about the same way. 
They are the ones, too, who are the hardest with the 
negroes. They’re afraid they’ll be driven out of 
business.” 

“How poor the people are,” said John, thought- 


370 FOUR BOYS IN LAND OF COTTON 


fully, as he gazed out of the window. In his 
thoughts he was comparing the homes he saw 
with the thrift which was characteristic of many 
of the little villages in New England. “1 sup- 
pose/ ^ he added, “that these places are homes 
for somebody, and probably ‘there’s no place like 
home’ to them.” 

“Yes, sir.” 

“Why do they build their houses like that?” 
John asked, as he pointed at a house which, like 
many of those they had passed, apparently had 
been built in a double form — or rather in two 
sections, between which there was an open space 
through which wagons and teams could be driven, 
and that led to the rude barns in the rear of the 
house. 

“I reckon that’s the way to build,” laughed 
the stranger. “Most of our houses in the country 
are built like that. May I ask if you are from the 
East?” 

“Yes, sir, I am,” said John. “My friend, here, 
is from Virginia.” 

“I was East once myself.” 

“Where in the East were you?” 

“Toledo. I must say I like this part of the 
country better.” 


A SLOW TRAIN THROUGH ARKANSAS 371 


John restrained the smile that came, and 
did not even glance at Lee. The man, after 
all, was like all others, and did believe in his 
own. 

It was late in the afternoon when the boys 
arrived at Little Rock, and as they were both tired 
from the long ride, they sent their trunks to the 
hotel, and then decided to walk, as the distance 
was not more than a half mile. They were in- 
terested observers of the sights, that were all 
strange to them — 'the houses, streets, and even 
the people being unlike those with which they 
were familiar. 

When they entered the office of the hotel, the 
room, the men sitting about in chairs that wer$* 
tipped against the wall, the very floor seemed to 
have been in the present form for years. The 
immaculate John, when at last the boys were 
shown to the room to which they were assigned, 
was loud in his protest. 

“Talk about brooms, Lee! This room needs 
a hoe. Yes, a plough, a spade, and a shovel ! 
They may raise the best apples in the world, but 
there is something they don’t raise.” 

“What’s that, sir?” 

“Soap and water. I don’t believe those base- 


372 FOUR BOYS IN LAND OF COTTON 


boards on that door have seen a scrubbing-brush 
since ‘befo’ the war.’” 

“Too bad we stopped off.” 

“Oh, it’s all a part of the trip. I want to 
see everything.” 

In the evening the boys wandered about the 
well-lighted streets, and were impressed by the 
appearance of the shops and many of the resi- 
dences they saw. The town itself seemed much 
more attractive than when they had first arrived, 
and the appearance of the people was decidedly 
pleasing. 

“They have plenty of time here, Lee,” laughed 
John, as they entered a drug store. 

“I reckon they have all there is,” assented 
Lee. 

John made his purchase, and as he turned to 
leave the store he said, “How many blocks is 
it to the hotel?” 

“I dunno, sir,” replied the clerk. “I reckon 
it’s five or six.” 

“How large a place is Little Rock? What is 
its population?” 

“I dunno, sir. It isn’t so large as St. Louis, 

I reckon.” 

John laughed, as he knew that St. Louis con- 


A SLOW TRAIN THROUGH ARKANSAS 373 


tained ten times as many people as Little Rock, 
but he made no more inquiries ; and when the boys 
departed, they walked on until they had crossed 
the long bridge that spanned the Arkansas River. 
The night was light, for the moon was full, and 
the dark, slowly moving waters were impressive, 
but John did not venture to ask any more ques- 
tions. 

On the following morning, when they departed 
from the hotel to the station, where they were to 
take the train for Muskogee, a fine, misty rain 
was falling, and the very air seemed almost unfit 
to breathe. When they arrived at the station, 
John turned to the first uniformed man he saw 
and asked, “When does the train for Muskogee 
leave V 7 

“I dunno, sir. Pretty soon, I reckon,” re- 
sponded the man, gloomily. 

John consulted his time-table and confirmed his 
former inspection, and found that ten minutes 
more must pass before the scheduled time for 
the departure of the train arrived. Turning to 
another man in uniform, he inquired: “Where is 
the train for Muskogee? On which track is it?” 

“I dunno, sir. It's over yonder somewhere, I 
reckon,” replied the man, indicating vaguely 


374 FOUR BOYS IN LAND OF COTTON 

some one of the numerous tracks in front of the 
station. 

“Come on ; Lee,” laughed John. “We’ll have 
to find it for ourselves. Isn’t this the greatest 
you ever saw? No one seems to know anything.” 

A brief search was rewarded by the discovery 
of the desired train, but the “parlor car” for 
which the boys had secured tickets was found to 
be a small smoking compartment in the rear end 
of what was termed “a buffet luncher.” 

Only two other passengers had secured seats 
there, and when the train pulled out, Lee said: 
“This is all right, Jack. It is almost like having 
Larc’s private car. We’ll have plenty of room, 
and I rather like this travelling in the rain. It’s 
nasty outside, but that only makes a man who is 
inside feel more comfortable. It is great!” 

“Yes, I like it. I’m glad we’re leaving. Say, 
Lee, somebody told me this was the ‘slow train 
through Arkansas’ that Bill Nye made famous.” 

“I reckon it is, Jack,” Lee replied, with a 
laugh. 

“Oh, well, I don’t mind that. It’ll give us 
all the more time for seeing things. It is every 
bit interesting to me. I never could understand 
why a man should want to read novels or anything 


A SLOW TRAIN THROUGH ARKANSAS 375 


like that when he is going through a new country. 
I want to see everything, myself. I can read 
when I am at home.” 

“ That's right,” said Lee, eagerly. “ We're see- 
ing what we came out to see.” 

In spite of the dreariness of the day, there was 
much that was novel and interesting to the young 
travellers. At times the road led along the banks 
of the Arkansas River, and the wide and somewhat 
sluggish stream, in places, with its border of 
cottonwoods or thick brush, was a beautiful sight. 
Then there were places where the cuts for the 
road-bed exposed the coal which in great quan- 
tities filled the hills. One small village where the 
train stopped was called Blackville, and when 
the boys were told by the conductor that the 
population consisted of about three hundred 
colored people, and not more than a dozen whites, 
John’s surprise, at least, was marked. 

In the most of the villages the general air of 
untidiness and neglect was striking to the thrifty 
John. Wagons and implements left exposed to 
the storms; pigs, cattle, mules, left free to roam 
the streets; the “ family wash” reposing on the 
front fence — indeed, the general air of shiftlessness 
was so manifest on every side that John did not 


376 FOUR BOYS IN LAND OF COTTON 


have the heart even to boast of his own surround- 
ings at home to Lee. 

“I reckon you’re correct/’ laughed Lee, as the 
afternoon drew on. “This must be Bill Nye’s 
slow train through Arkansas. We’ve been makin’ 
about eighteen miles an hour on our run from 
Little Rock.” 

“‘Run’ from little Rock!” laughed John. 
“Why, Lee, nothing runs here, not even the water 
in the Arkansas River. But it is all interesting 
to me. I wouldn’t miss it for a good deal. What 
a spot of foliage that is!” he added eagerly, as 
he pointed to a gorgeous clump of bushes near 
the bank of the river. 

“Yes, sir. Plenty of that for one who wants 
to see.” 

“What time are we due at Fort Smith?” 

“Right soon, I reckon. You don’t want to 
stop there, do you?” 

“No, I thank you. The trainman says we 
are coming into God’s country when we get into 
Indian Territory. I want to get there now. He 
says that some of the old buildings put up when 
Fort Smith was a truly fort, and not a city, are 
still standing.” 

It was not long before the train arrived at 


A SLOW TRAIN THROUGH ARKANSAS 377 


Fort Smith. As the boys peered out, they were 
astonished to see the wide, typical Western streets 
filled with a surging mass of people. 

“Look there! Look there, sir!” called Lee, 
hastily, as he pointed at two huge farm wagons 
approaching the station. Each wagon was filled 
to the utmost capacity with Indians, and even 
the boys were startled when suddenly the red men 
began to whoop and yell in a manner that was 
surprising and almost alarming to the young 
travellers. 


CHAPTER XXX 

IN THE LAND OF THE INDIANS 

“ They're going to board this train !” said Lee, 
excitedly, as he and John stood on the platform 
of their car, watching the strange sight before 
them. 

“You’re correct, Lee/’ responded John. “I 
wonder what the cause of all this excitement is. 
Must have been something going on here to-day.” 

“There has been,” said a man who was stand- 
ing behind the boys. The friendliness and readi- 
ness on the part of those who were entire strangers 
to engage in conversation had been one of the 
experiences of the young travellers which at first 
had puzzled them, but now they had become so 
accustomed to it that they received the stranger’s 
words in the same friendly spirit in which they 
had been spoken. 

“Yes, there has been,” the man said again. 
“There’s been a circus in Fort Smith, and that 

378 


IN THE LAND OF THE INDIANS 379 


will call out a bigger crowd than anything else 
in these parts.” 

“But these Indians act as if they had been 
drinking,” said John, as a fresh whoop came from 
the motley crowd that was about to board the 
train. “I thought it was against the law to let 
any Indian have whiskey.” 

“So it is, and the law is very strictly en- 
forced, too,” said the stranger. “It applies to 
the Territory, though, and when these ‘ bucks ' get 
outside, they don't always remember what the 
penalty is. I don't know why it is, but an Indian 
will sell his soul for whiskey, and as long as that 
is so, why, of course there will be men — and 
women, too — who will try to sell them what they 
want. There was a woman over here at Muskogee 
who was sent to the penitentiary only last week 
for that very thing.” 

“How do they do it, sir?” inquired Lee. “If 
the law is so sharp, I don't see — ” 

“Oh, there are all sorts of tricks,” broke in the 
man. “Sometimes men have pockets in their 
high jack-boots and bring bottles in that way. 
Not long ago there was a small army of men let 
loose in the Territory, every one of whom had 
a wooden leg. It wasn't long before it was found 


380 FOUR BOYS IN LAND OF COTTON 


out that the wooden legs were hollow, and were 
full of whiskey. Then I’ve known of men who 
drove about the Territory with wagons that had 
hollow axles, and it wasn’t suspected that they 
were peddling whiskey until somebody found a 
‘buck’ flat on his back on the ground under the 
wagon, and he had turned on a small spigot and 
was getting all the whiskey he wanted, for the 
axles weren’t so hollow, after all.” 

“Do you mean that they brought whiskey in the 
axletrees?” said John, in surprise. 

“That’s just what I mean,” laughed the man. 

Neither of the boys spoke for a brief time, 
and when they turned back into the car, for the 
train was now moving, John said: “It makes my 
blood boil just to think of the way the Indians 
have been treated! Just think how they have 
been driven from their homes, how their land has 
been taken from them ; and how their very weak- 
nesses have been traded on by the ‘superior 
race’! We talk about our civilization! Why 
is it that every nation that comes in contact with 
the whites goes down?” 

“The negroes haven’t suffered,” responded 
the stranger, “but they do seem to be about the 
only ones that could stand being civilized.” 


IN THE LAND OF THE INDIANS 381 


“Do you call that civilizing the Indians?” 
said John, warmly. “When men violate the 
laws of their own land, as you say these men do, 
by bringing whiskey in wooden legs into the 
country, how can you expect the red men them- 
selves are going to be benefited? It’s a shame 
and a disgrace!” John’s ancestors had been 
amongst those who had been intensely interested 
in work for the downtrodden, and his rising anger 
now was only perhaps natural. 

“Oh, you’re young, and you’re a stranger in 
these parts,” responded the man, lightly. “If 
you lived here, you would feel differently. Indian 
Territory is too good for the Indians. They won’t 
work it, and if they won’t, then those who will 
ought to have the chance. And they will. It’s 
nature, and you can’t prevent it.” 

“Is Indian Territory such a fine country, sir?” 
asked Lee. 

“Wonderful! Wonderful! Why, man, it’s a 
garden ! It’s bound to be the greatest State in the 
Union. You see, it isn’t like most of the States 
you say you have just come through. There it’s 
cotton, cotton, cotton — unless it happens to 
be rice or sugar or tobacco. What I mean is 
that it’s some one crop on which the whole thing 


382 FOUR BOYS IN LAND OF COTTON 


depends. But in Indian Territory — the cotton 
is„as fine as is grown, but that isn't all. The 
wheat here is enough to make the Dakotas turn 
green with envy. The corn is as good as Iowa 
ever raised. The fruit is simply amazing. The 
cattle and horses are A No. 1. No, sir. Indian 
Territory doesn't depend on any one crop, let me 
tell you. You don’t happen to be wanting to 
take up some land, do you?" he added shrewdly. 
“If you do, I might be able to help you out, as I 
happen to have a little more than I really care 
to hold. The man who buys up the land here 
now will make his everlasting fortune in no time 
at all. Just as soon as the Territory is made a 
State, you'll see such a boom here as this country 
never even heard of before." 

“Thank you," said John. “We came out to 
see the land, not to buy it." 

“Well, there's my card," said the stranger, as 
he held forth the bit of pasteboard on which 
was printed the information that Solomon Moses 
was prepared to buy or sell land, to dispose of 
cotton on commission, rent houses, buy cattle or 
wheat, and in fact, as John afterwards expressed 
it, “ do anything " whereby a trusting and innocent 
soul might be separated from his money. 


IN THE LAND OF THE INDIANS 383 


The sun had long since disappeared from sight, 
but as the two boys gazed into the dim region 
through which they were passing, they could see 
that the humble homes of the people were 
widely scattered, and that such clearings as 
had been made bore ample evidence as to the 
truthfulness of the statements of Mr. Solomon 
Moses concerning the character of the posses- 
sions of the people that had entered the Terri- 
tory. 

At one place two canvas-covered wagons were 
seen near a piece of woods, and the fire kindled 
near by and the sight of the people assembled 
caused John to turn again to the stranger and 
inquire, “Will you please tell me what these 
wagons are for?” 

“They’re what used to be called prairie 
schooners,” replied the man. 

“Do they still use them?” said John, in sur- 
prise. “I didn’t think they could compete with 
the railroads.” 

“They can’t. They don’t. One doesn’t see 
such affairs very often. Probably that was some 
family from Arkansas that had come over here 
to visit some of their people that had settled in 
the Territory.” 


384 FOUR BOYS IN LAND OF COTTON 

“But why don’t they come by the cars?” in- 
quired Lee. 

“Costs too much. Probably they didn’t have 
any money, not even enough to buy a ticket.” 

It was not long before the boys arrived at the 
town where they were to change cars, and after 
waiting there for an hour they entered another 
train, which, in its equipment as well as in the 
character of the people on board, was a distinct 
surprise. It may have been that the boys were 
expecting to see warriors in paint and feathers, 
and squaws with pappooses strapped to their 
backs; but if so, they were disappointed, for 
the general appearance of the people on the 
cars, all of whom were white, was a marked im- 
provement over those who had been in the train 
which the young travellers had recently left. 
A brief ride brought the boys to Muskogee, where 
another great surprise awaited them. Upon en- 
tering the hotel, which was close to the rail- 
way, its appearance, and that of the guests, was 
not unlike that of the older and more settled 
regions, and again was a great advance over that 
which they had recently seen. 

“Give me Indian Territory every time!” de- 
clared John, when at last they were comfortably 


IN THE LAND OF THE INDIANS 385 


settled in their room. In spite of the numbers of 
the guests in the hotel, the boys fortunately had 
been able to secure a good room for themselves, 
and to secure a room adjoining in which they 
had Scott’s trunk placed to await his coming, for 
he and Larcum were due at Muskogee on the fol- 
lowing morning. 

The sun was shining brightly when John and 
Lee were awakened by the sound of voices in 
the room reserved for their two friends. This 
sound was followed by that of a trunk or some 
heavy box being deposited on the floor, and as 
John sprang out of bed, he exclaimed: “ There’s 
Larc’s trunk ! I believe he did have a trunk, after 
all ! Let’s go in and find out.” 

Hastily donning their clothing, the two boys 
entered the other room, and were greeted by a 
shout of welcome from Larcum and Scott. 

“Is that your trunk?” asked John, soberly, 
pointing at the object in question. 

“It is, sir. The long lost has been found,” 
roared Larcum. 

“How did you find it? Where was it?” 
demanded Lee. 

“Do you think a business man, at six per, lets 
a little thing like a trunk get away from him? 


386 FOUR BOYS IN LAND OF COTTON 


No, sir. Not much. That trunk was sent by 
mistake to Vicksburg, and the man that had it 
didn’t find out his mistake until after he arrived, 
and then he made the telegraph wires hum. 
I had put my father on the trail, and at last the 
thing was straightened out. This man’s trunk 
which I had at Old Point Comfort is now in the 
hands of its rightful owner, and he is in his right 
mind.” 

“Was he a burglar, Larc?” asked Lee. 

“Not exactly,” responded Larcum, demurely. 
“He is a salesman for a hardware house, and had 
a few of his samples in that trunk, that’s all. 
He had a great time when I told him that the 
police were after him and that he was suspected 
of being one of the burglars that broke into the 
post-office at Chuckatuck, Virigina, though why 
any burglar man should want to get anywhere 
near a town with a name like that, is more than 
I can understand. But I’m hungry, fellows. 
Let’s go down and get some breakfast.” 

A few minutes afterward, when the four boys 
had been given a table in the crowded dining 
room, and their breakfast had been served, Larcum 
exclaimed enthusiastically: “I tell you, fellows, 
this almost makes me homesick. This breakfast 


IN THE LAND OF THE INDIANS 387 

is the kind that mother used to give me. I haven't 
had such a meal since we left New York." 

“It's all right," murmured Scott. "And just 
look about you, too," he added. "The people 
use spoons and knives and forks." 

"It's a good-looking crowd," responded John, 
as he glanced for a moment about the room. 
"I don't see any one in feathers or war-paint. 
As far as I am able to discover, there isn't a toma- 
hawk or a scalping-knife here." 

"What did you expect to find, Jack?" laughed 
Lee. 

"I don't just know, but I wasn't looking for 
such evidences of advanced civilization. I fancy 
we'll find all kinds, though, before we are done 
with it. How long shall we stay here, fellows?" 
asked John. 

"If you will listen to a suggestion from me, 
perhaps it will help you to solve that prob- 
lem," said Scott. 

"We've got to listen, Scott," said Larcum, 
"We can't get away. Say on, friend." 

"I was thinking that as time isn't any object 
to us — " 

"‘Time'!" interrupted Larcum. "That's no 
way to talk to a business man, at six per. Time 


388 FOUR BOYS IN LAND OF COTTON 


is money. I can't waste time, even on this 
crowd." 

“Keep still a minute, and hear what I have to 
say," said Scott, soberly. “My suggestion is this : 
why don't we arrange for a couple of tents, get 
a couple of men, one to do the cooking and the 
other to be a general-utility man, and go over 
on the banks of the Arkansas River and camp 
there for a couple of weeks. The river can’t be 
more than three or four miles from here, and — " 

“Scott, you're a genius!" interrupted Larcum. 

“Keep still and hear me out," continued Scott, 
“We can telegraph home and get word if there 
is any objection, and we'll have word before we're 
ready to leave here, anyway. For my part, I 
can't think of anything that would be better 
fun than that. There must be fishing in the 
river ; we can get some good place for our tents, 
and then we'll have some guns, and we probably 
can hire some ponies, so that Jack can put in all 
the bareback riding he wants to. Before we go 
into camp we can see all there is to be seen here, 
and go on and visit some of the other tribes and 
reservations, too." 

“Scott, that suits me exactly!" said Lee, 
eagerly. 


IN THE LAND OF THE INDIANS 389 

“I eliminate all the objections of a personal 
nature,” said John, “and for the sake of the pro- 
spective hilarity of this congenial assembly, Fll 
wire home, too, and secure the consent of those 
who are somewhat interested in the welfare of 
the scion of the tribe of Adams. Incidentally, 
I think HI suggest to my beloved and respected 
parental ancestor that, in view of the proposed 
change in our itinerary, a few more coins of the 
realm will not only be acceptable, but likewise 
useful, in the present emergency.” 

“Same here!” exclaimed Larcum, “though HI 
write my message in English.” 

“How will the T. G. and P. get along without 
you, Larc?” laughed Scott. 

“They’ll learn to value my services as they 
ought to,” responded Larcum. “I haven’t any 
doubt they’ll raise my salary when at last I go 
back. Perhaps they may even make it seven 
per, though I do want to be fair to the stock- 
holders.” 

“Come on, then !” exclaimed Scott, as he arose 
from his seat. “We must get our messages off, 
and find out what can be done here.” 


CHAPTER XXXI 


CREEKS AND CHEROKEES 

In their enthusiasm over the new project, the 
four boys did not delay, and in a brief time were 
out on the main street of the city. Scott had a 
letter of introduction to the cashier of one of the 
banks, and it had been decided by the young 
travellers that before they made any definite 
plans, they would consult with this man, who was 
a personal friend of Scott’s father, and had come to 
reside in Indian Territory, primarily for the sake of 
his health, and incidentally, to take advantage of 
the marvellous opportunities the new country 
presented for investments. 

The main street was wide, and the many low 
buildings on either side gave the impression of a 
typical frontier town. Not that there were not 
stately and even imposing structures to be seen, 
for these also were in evidence, and many of them 
were beautiful. 

It was, however, the appearance of the people 

390 


CREEKS AND CHEROKEES 


391 


to be seen on the streets that most interested the 
four boys as they walked toward the bank they 
were seeking. Men in typical cowboy garb, 
negroes who, as a class, did not compare favorably 
with those that had been seen in the Southern 
States (these negroes were for the greater part 
descendants of the blacks who had sought the 
refuge of the Territory at the close of the Civil 
War), half-breeds whose faces betrayed their 
ancestry, enterprising men who had come, eager 
to secure the opportunities which a developing 
country offered, a few women who walked along 
the street as [if the sights so novel to the four 
boys had no special interest for them ; and on both 
sides of the long street, ponies of every color and 
size were tied. It was all deeply interesting, but 
the young travellers did not stop for conversation, 
as they were eager to find the man they were 
seeking. 

At last they halted before the bank ; and after 
they had made certain that it was the place they 
desired, they entered — impressed alike by the 
beauty of the interior of the building and the 
character of the people who even at this early 
hour had come to transact their daily business. 

Only a brief time elapsed after Scott had sent 


392 FOUR BOYS IN LAND OF COTTON 

in his note of introduction before Mr. Graham 
appeared, and glancing pleasantly at the boys, 
said, “ Which of you is Mr. Gordon?” 

“I am,” replied Scott, as he grasped the ex- 
tended hand of the cashier, and then presented 
each of his companions. 

“I am very glad to see you. Very glad in- 
deed,” said Mr. Graham, cordially. “Please come 
right in,” he added, as he turned and opened a 
door which evidently opened into the directors’ 
room. 

“We don’t want to take your time, Mr. Gra- 
ham,” said Larcum. “We understand what it is 
for a business man — ” 

“Larcum is a business man himself,” inter- 
rupted Scott, laughingly. “He is connected 
with the T. G. and P. — ” 

“At six per,” broke in Larcum, solemnly. 

“Yes, at six per,” Scott graciously admitted. 

“Never mind the time, young gentlemen,” 
said Mr. Graham. “We are never too busy to 
greet the son of an old friend. And his friends 
are equally welcome, too. What brings you out 
here into this country, may I inquire?” 

“We came just for the trip,” explained Scott. 
“Only one of us had ever been in the land of 


CREEKS AND CHEROKEES 


393 


cotton, but we have changed our plans a little 
this morning ; at least, we are talking of changing 
them, if our fathers don't veto the project, and 
we don't think they will." 

“ Knowing Mr. Gordon as I do, I don't believe 
you have very much to fear on that score from 
him, at least for anything in reason," said Mr. 
Graham, with a smile. 

“No, sir, we're not very much afraid," laughed 
Scott. “We thought it would be a good plan to 
go into camp over here on the banks of the 
Arkansas River for two or three weeks." 

“Yes?" said Mr. Graham. “That probably 
appeals to you more than it would to me. Have 
you been out on the trolley to see for your- 
selves?" 

“Can we go on a trolley car from here to the 
river?" inquired John, in surprise. 

“Certainly, sir." 

“Then I don't see that there is any use in 
talking of camping there," said Scott, quickly. 
“We might just as well try it on Boston Com- 
mon, or in Central Park." 

“Hardly. You'll find plenty of room. The 
trolleys don't run along the bank. They only 
go out to the river." 


394 FOUR BOYS IN LAND OF COTTON 


“How large a place is Muskogee?” inquired 
Lee. 

“About twenty thousand. Ten or a dozen 
years ago you couldn’t have found two thousand 
people here. Oh, it doesn’t take long for these 
Western towns to spring up. They are like Jonah’s 
gourd — they come up almost in a night,” said 
Mr. Graham, smiling at the surprise of his visitors. 
“We have plenty of space left, though. You 
need have no fear of being crowded. And that is 
what we like. My daughter is just home; she 
has been in Boston, attending school, and the 
very first morning after she was back in Muskogee, 
she took her pony and went for a scamper out 
over the prairies. When she came back, she 
declared she never could leave this part of the 
country again. She said she felt crowded in 
Boston, and even here, where she met some 
one every two or three miles on her ride, she 
declared that the population was becoming so 
dense that the old sense of freedom was almost 
gone. I fancy it will not affect you young gen- 
tlemen just in that way, though.” 

“It is all interesting, and yet it is different from 
what I, at least, expected to see,” said John. “I 
like it, but I don’t think I’d like it all the time.” 


CREEKS AND CHEROKEES 


395 


“ Probably not. You are city-born and bred.” 

“Can we get two tents, Mr. Graham?” inquired 
Scott. 

“I am sure you can.” 

“And can we get a couple of men — one for a 
cook and the other for — well, for general pur- 
poses?” laughed Scott. 

“I think so. Do you want Indians?” 

“Yes, sir ! Yes, sir !” exclaimed the four boys 
together. 

“I think I can get them for you. John Buffalo 
Meat is a good cook, when he applies himself, 
and Sam Left Arm is good for anything — if 
there is not too much work connected with it.” 

“And we can get them, sir?” demanded Lee, 
excitedly. 

“I think I can arrange the matter.” 

“We’ll want guns and fishing-tackle and a few 
other things,” suggested Scott. 

“They can be found; that is, unless your Tew 
other things’ are not to be had.” 

The enthusiasm of the boys was so marked that 
even Mr. Graham felt something of its conta- 
gion. 

“What are these Indians you mentioned, Mr. 
Graham?” inquired John. 


396 FOUR BOYS IN LAND OF COTTON 

“ Creeks. This is the Creek Reservation, you 
know, and Okmulgee is the old capital of it.” 

“I don’t understand,” said John. “When I 
studied geography, Tahlequah was given as the 
capital of Indian Territory.” 

“So it was, too, when I studied geography,” 
replied Mr. Graham, “but I never knew how that 
mistake came to be made. Each tribe — each 
reservation — has its own capital. Okmulgee is 
the capital of the Creeks, as I told you, and 
Tahlequah is the capital of the Cherokees. By 
the way, boys, if you can spare the time, a trip to 
Tahlequah would well repay you. It is a very 
interesting place. The Cherokees pride them- 
selves upon being of a higher class than these 
Creeks. They claim that they have never inter- 
married with the negroes, but the same thing 
cannot even be claimed for these Creeks. If 
you go over to Tahlequah, you will find Indians 
— especially Indian girls — who are almost as 
light as you. Indeed, it is said that some even 
have blue eyes and light hair.” 

“And they are full-bloods?” inquired Lee. 

“So it is claimed. I cannot tell you positively. 
Still, I do not think these Creeks do quite measure 
up to the Cherokees. The Ozarks, however, are 


CREEKS AND CHEROKEES 


397 


by far the most wealthy of the Indians in the 
region. They have leased their oil and mineral 
lands at such prices that their income is almost 
fabulous. Then, too, they — I mean the Ozarks 
— have not had so many, or at least such close 
relations, with the whites as some of the other 
tribes, and I don’t think they have lost by it. 
The Ozarks even pretend they don’t understand 
English, if you speak to them, but they really 
do, as you would very soon find out if you tried to 
make a business deal with them.” 

“I suppose we can buy all the Indian curios 
we want here in Muskogee, can’t we?” inquired 
John. 

“You certainly can buy,” replied Mr. Graham, 
his eyes twinkling as he spoke. “But I think 
you can buy them cheaper in New York.” 

“I should think we could do better right here, 
where they are made,” said John. 

“That may be the trouble,” laughed Mr. Gra- 
ham; “the most of them are ‘made’ in New York 
and shipped here.” 

“The blankets?” inquired John. 

“There are no blanket Indians in the Territory. 
The nearest are in Oklahoma, I think. It is 
surprising, though, how many people do buy such 


398 FOUR BOYS IN LAND OF COTTON 


things, right here, although they are made and 
shipped right from the East.” 

“How about the moccasins, sir?” asked Lee. 

“I don’t think you would want the genuine 
moccasins — at least, I don’t believe your mothers 
would consent to their being in your homes more 
than an hour or two. These moccasins you buy 
here won’t do any harm, though. One of the 
dealers here told me only the other day of an 
experience he had with an Eastern woman, who 
came into his store to purchase some moccasins, 
and she seemed to be very fearful she wouldn’t 
secure those that were the genuine article. 
‘You are certain, are you,’ she asked nervously, 
‘that these moccasins are genuine?’ ‘Genuine, 
madam!’ he answered. ‘Why, my dear woman, 
these moccasins were made on the last of the 
Mohicans ! ’ That seemed to satisfy her, for she 
bought two pairs. They tell me that the story 
leaked out and found its way into the Eastern 
papers.” 

“It did,” said John, soberly. “I read it my- 
self.” 

“We can get ponies if we go into camp, can’t 
we?” asked Scott. 

“All you want.” 


CREEKS AND CHEROKEES 


399 


“We’ll leave the selection of them to Jack/’ 
said Scott, dryly. “ He’ll be sure to get safe ones. 
Indian ponies, Jack; not clothes-horses, remem- 
ber,” he added quizzically, as he turned to his 
friend. 

“You young gentlemen must come up to my 
house to dinner to-night,” said Mr. Graham, as 
his visitors arose to depart. 

The boys thanked him for the invitation, as 
well as for the time and information he had given 
them, and at once went back to their hotel. A 
trolley ride to the banks of the Arkansas River 
filled in the hours of the morning, and a carriage 
ride about town was had in the afternoon. The 
strange blending of old and new, of shanties and 
beautiful homes, was impressive to the boys, as 
well as the occasional sight of a full-blood on the 
streets. Of half-breeds there were so many that 
the sight soon lost its novelty. 

The attractiveness of Mr. Graham’s home, the 
culture of his family, and the taste displayed in 
house and grounds taught the boys, when they 
dined that night with their friends, that even on 
the frontier, though the newer elements might be 
much in evidence, the older were not entirely 
wanting. 


400 FOUR BOYS IN LAND OF COTTON 


On the following day the four boys went by 
train to Tahlequah, the capital of the Cherokee 
nation. The ride was through a marvellously 
fertile region, where only at rare intervals could 
a dwelling be seen. Along by the banks of the 
Illinois River the scenery softened, and the fields 
of cotton or of corn gave promise of harvests 
that would be rich and fruitful. 

“Look at that! Look at that, will you, fel- 
lows!” shouted Larcum, when at last the train 
arrived at the little station at Tahlequah. Peer- 
ing from the windows, the boys beheld a motley 
crowd of at least three hundred assembled to 
share in the daily excitement — the arrival of the 
cars. Indians, negroes, and whites were in the 
surging mob, but if any of the boys was startled 
by what he saw, his fears were soon relieved when, 
after they had stepped upon the platform, they 
were hailed by hackmen after the manner of the 
world from which they had come. 

Selecting a carriage, they were driven to the 
village or city (for Tahlequah claimed at least 
three thousand inhabitants), and on the ride John 
called the attention of his friends to the marvel- 
lous beauty of the great bowl in which the capital 
of the Cherokees was located. The level land, 


CREEKS AND CHEROICEES 


401 


rich and fertile, stretched away to the surround- 
ing hills, which were covered by the soft haze of a 
summer day. Peacefulness seemed to be stamped 
on all things, and the very framework of the sky, 
with its few fleecy clouds, and the yellow sunlight 
over all, added to the impressiveness of the sight. 

“Anything special going on here to-day?” 
Scott inquired of the driver. He was thinking of 
the crowd about the station at the arrival of the 
train. 

“Nothing very unusual,” replied the driver, 
pleasantly. “Oh, yes. I believe the Kings and 
Chieftains are in session. That’s the assembly of 
the Cherokees, you know,” he explained. 

“No, we don’t know,” said John, quickly. 
‘ ‘ Will they let us in ? Can we go into the session ? ” 

“Yes, sir.” 

“Then take us there.” And the driver at once 
started toward the little frame capitol building. 


CHAPTER XXXII 


CONCLUSION 

As soon as the carriage halted beside the little 
park in which the humble building was situated, 
the four boys at once leaped out and walked 
swiftly to the capitol. As soon as they learned 
that they would be admitted as visitors into 
the two rooms where the representatives of the 
Cherokee nation were assembled, — the “ House 
of Kings,” and the 11 House of Chieftains,” corre- 
sponding in a manner to the senate and assem- 
bly of the state governments with which the 
boys were somewhat familiar, — they at once 
made their way to the room where the Upper 
House was in session. 

As the boys entered, they beheld seated in chairs 
in the room some ten or twelve full-bloods, only 
two or three of whom even glanced at the visitors, 
and then only for an instant, for they quickly 
resumed their former attitudes. Like statues the 
red men were sitting in silence. Not a word was 

402 


CONCLUSION 


403 


spoken during the few minutes that the interested 
young travellers remained. Without looking at 
one another, the silent red men apparently were 
buried in thought, and were unaware of the 
watching strangers. 

At last, when the four boys withdrew, and were 
once more in the hall, Larcum said quickly: “Did 
you ever see anything like that, fellows? I had 
heard so much about the eloquence of the Indian 
orators, that I expected to hear some fine speeches. 
And not a word was spoken.” 

“That’s right, Larc,” responded Scott, with a 
laugh. “They aren’t much like our men, are 
they? Our noble representatives talk a lot. I 
think my father would be glad to have some of 
our rulers come out here into Indian Territory, 
and learn a few lessons.” 

“Come on, boys. We must go into the other 
room. We want to see the 'Chieftains,’ too, don’t 
we?” said Lee. 

“That is just what we do,” responded John, 
quickly. 

When the boys entered the room where the 
“Chieftains” were assembled, they beheld twenty 
or more full-bloods, who were as silent and digni- 
fied as the other body had been. The presiding 


404 FOUR BOYS IN LAND OF COTTON 


officer, who was a full-blood with a face of marked 
intelligence, did not even look at the visitors, and 
only a few of the assembly appeared to be aware 
of the presence of the boys. The tense silence 
was almost oppressive. Rigid, motionless, the 
Cherokees sat in their chairs, and if matters of 
importance for the tribe were being considered, 
there was nothing to indicate the fact, unless it 
was the expression of earnestness which seemed 
to be stamped on every face. 

At last the boys withdrew from the room, and 
when they returned to their carriage it is safe to 
affirm that of all the interesting sights they had 
seen in the land of cotton, not one had im- 
pressed them more than that of the motionless 
full-bloods, representatives of the Cherokees, 
whom they had seen in their solemn, silent as- 
sembly. 

“Yes, there ’s a chief of the tribe,” replied the 
driver, in response to a question of John; “Chief 
Rogers is the one just now.” But the driver 
was unable to define the exact duties of his 
position, though John explained that doubtless 
the head of the Cherokees was not unlike the 
governor of a state in his relation to the legisla- 
tive bodies. 


CONCLUSION 


405 


“Are they always as quiet as they were to- 
day?” inquired Scott. 

“Hardly,” replied the driver. “Sometimes 
they have a great powwow. Just now, probably 
there isn’t much to do, and they are just sitting 
out the hours so that they can draw their pay. 
Oh, they’ve learned lots of the white men’s ways,” 
said the driver, laughing again loudly. 

“And does every one of the Indian tribes have 
just such a body to legislate?” asked Larcum. 

“The five civilized nations do.” 

“What are the five?” 

“The Cherokees, Creeks, Choctaws, Chickasaws, 
and the Seminoles.” 

“When did the Cherokees come into the Terri- 
tory?” 

“In 1838.” 

“Do you know the capital of each tribe?” 

“Yes, sir ,” said the driver. “Everybody in 
the Territory knows that. The capital of the 
Cherokees is Tahlequah, of the Creeks is Okmul- 
gee, of the Choctaws it is Tuskahoma ; Fishomingo 
is the capital of the Chickasaws, and the Seminole 
capital is Wewoka.” 

“Good for you!” exclaimed Larcum. “Can 
you say that again?” 


406 FOUR BOYS IN LAND OF COTTON 


“Yes, sir. Tahlequah, Okmulgee, Tuskahoma, 
Fishomingo, Wewoka.” 

“That will do,” said John, solemnly. “Now 
show us the town.” 

“No; tell us some more about the Indians,” 
protested Scott. 

“He can do that while we’re riding,” suggested 
Larcum, and the boys at once clambered into their 
seats. 

“What do you want me to tell?” asked the 
driver. 

“How many people are in Indian Territory 
now?” inquired John. 

“About eight hundred thousand.” 

‘ ‘ What ! All Indians ? ’ ’ 

“No; probably there are not more than a hun- 
dred thousand of them, and that includes the 
white men who have been adopted into the tribes, 
and some of the descendants of the negroes who 
were at one time slaves of the Indians. Prob- 
ably there are not more than seventy-five thousand 
people that have Indian blood in their veins.” 

“How many full-bloods are there?” asked 
Scott. 

“It is claimed that twenty-five thousand are 
enrolled, but fifteen thousand would be a good 


CONCLUSION 


407 


deal nearer the mark. You see, a good many that 
had some Indian blood tried to get in, so that 
some of the land would be allotted to them.” 

“I fancy the full-bloods are the best, aren't 
they?” said John. 

“I can't say. Perhaps they might be, but it 
isn't always so. They are apt to be sullen. And 
then, too, a good many of them are poor — dread- 
fully poor.” 

“How is that? I thought every full-blood had 
land,” suggested Scott. 

“Yes, that is so, and then again it isn't so, too. 
I don't say the Federal Government didn't try to 
protect them, for very likely it did; but there's 
a lot of red tape connected with the Interior 
Department, and a good many of the full-bloods 
were too sullen or too indifferent to find out what 
they ought to know, and so it has come to pass that 
the ‘ sharks ' have taken advantage of them. They 
have good schools, — the government has looked 
out for that, — and the younger ones may do 
better. But it's a hard case just now. They 
are poor, they don't know much about work, 
and some of them care less; they can't get 
any credit, and so, you see, it isn't a very bright 
outlook.” 


408 FOUR BOYS IN LAND OF COTTON 


“Won't it be better when the Territory becomes 
a State?" 

“We'll hope so. It can't be much worse. And 
almost every full-blood will sell himself for whiskey, 
and they — even their women, are gamblers from 
the time when they can run alone." 

“I read the other day," said Larcum, slowly, 
“that alcohol would dissolve sugar." 

“It will," said the driver. “It’ll dissolve land 
and horses and cattle ; it'll soak up all the cotton ; 
it will melt gold; it will swallow a house and 
drink up a home. It will dissolve most anything, 
if you only give it a chance." 

For a time the boys were silent as they gazed 
about them with interest. Indians and whites 
were to be seen on every side. The location of 
the town was one of surpassing beauty, and there 
were evidences of thrift and enterprise in abun- 
dance. The beautiful buildings and grounds which 
the government and various missionary organ- 
izations had provided for schools, the churches 
and some of the homes, were all of interest, and the 
blending of frontier life with some of the elements 
of the life to which the boys were more accus- 
tomed, was both surprising and pleasing. 

As the young travellers were compelled to 


CONCLUSION 


409 


remain over night in order to take the daily train 
for Muskogee, they sought the humble hotel, — 
its keeper was an Indian woman, — and their 
experiences there were not the least vivid among 
the many of their long journey through the land 
of cotton. 

On the following morning they boarded the 
train to return to Muskogee. The soft sunlight 
of the summer days, the winding river, the beauti- 
ful woods and openings, the fields of cotton or 
grain, the droves of horses, the herds of cattle, 
even the long stretches of miles of land between 
the humble little stations, were all interesting, and 
the boys were in high spirits. 

“I say, Scott, what has been the most inter- 
esting thing you have seen?” asked John of his 
friend, who, with Lee, was seated opposite to John 
and Larcum. 

“It has all been interesting, every day and every 
bit of it,” responded Scott, enthusiastically. 

“But what was the most interesting ? ” 

“Well, I should say the part after Larc and I 
left you and Lee at Memphis.” 

“That's right. I expected to hear you say 
that,” said John. “Of course the part we missed 
and you had would naturally be the best.” 


410 FOUR BOYS IN LAND OF COTTON 


“But it was interesting,” persisted Scott. 
“The great plantations and the sight of some of 
the old mansions which we could see away back 
from the railroad, the miles of forests and the 
crowds of negroes at every place where we 
stopped, made a great impression on me. Then, 
too, I shall never forget the little town in 
Texas where we had to change cars. Our 
train was late, of course, so we had to stay over 
night there. There were two little hotels near 
the station, and we asked the station agent which 
was the better. A dunno, boss/ he said, T 
reckon whichever one you go to you’ll wish you’d 
gone to the other/ and we did. The next morning 
we found our ‘ train’ consisted of an old, filthy 
smoking-car in the rear end of a freight- train and 
we were travelling for seven hours and a half going 
the fifty-two miles. It was a nightmare, but it 
was interesting, and I’m glad we had the expe- 
rience. Of course we were all right just as soon 
as we struck the main line, for the cars out here 
really are' better than the ones in the East. I 
think, though, that the most interesting part of it 
all was at Vicksburg. They ferried the train 
across the Mississippi, and Larc and I were out on 
deck, of course. I was wide awake, let me tell 


CONCLUSION 


411 


you, and I was thinking of what took place there 
in the Civil War. You know, in 1862, Grant tried 
to get into Vicksburg, but he couldn't do it. The 
next year the river was almost all open, though 
the Confederates still held strong forts at Vicks- 
burg and Port Hudson. Pemberton had an army 
between Grant and Vicksburg, and Johnston was 
in command of the Confederate forces in the West. 
Grant's first plan was to lead his army across the 
Mississippi near Memphis, and go down the west 
bank till he was opposite Vicksburg. There he 
tried to cut a canal that would leave Vicksburg 
at some distance from the river, but the project 
didn't work, and after two months Grant found 
Vicksburg too strong to be taken. Grant then 
gave up his first plan, and took his army farther 
south, past Vicksburg. At the same time our 
gunboats ran past the batteries there without 
much damage, and then the boats ferried Grant's 
army across the river, so that he was on the Vicks- 
burg side. Sherman was keeping Pemberton 
busy all this time. After he crossed the Missis- 
sippi, Grant moved northeast, fighting five battles, 
and winning them all, and at last he was in Jack- 
son. He then was in a position where he could 
drive Pemberton into the fortifications at Vicks- 


412 FOUR BOYS IN LAND OF COTTON 


burg, and drive Johnston away, too. Then, after 
this was done, Grant turned back from Jackson, 
joined Sherman, and the whole army laid siege to 
Vicksburg. And he never let go his grip, either, 
and at the end of six weeks the place was sur- 
rendered and thirty thousand prisoners were 
taken. That was in July, 1863. I tell you, 
fellows, it was a great thing to be right on the 
ground where all this took place.” 

“That’s right, Scott,” said John, cordially. “I 
almost wish we’d gone with you. Lee, what is 
the best you have had on this trip ?” 

“The Indians,” responded Lee, quickly; “the 
Indians and the lecture of my friend, John 
Adams Field, Jr., on the history of the Peninsular 
Campaign.” 

“Never you mind that,” said John, as his friends 
all laughed. “You may get that yet before we’re 
out of camp.” 

“No, we’ll read it up,” said Scott. “Then we’ll 
have the facts.” 

“What is your report, Larc?” inquired John. 

“What did I like best?” answered Larcum. 
“Why, I should say my trunk, and next to that 
the sight of all these railroads. Naturally, I think 
of them, being engaged in the same line of business. 


CONCLUSION 


413 


But I wonder if you fellows ever stop to think 
of what it means to have all these railroads 
in our own country, to think of how they 
were built, where they lead to, what they carry, 
and I don’t know what all. It is great, I tell 
you.” 

“ What do you say, Jack ? ” asked Scott. “You 
have asked us all, now tell us what the most im- 
pressive thing you have seen is.” 

“Virginia,” responded John, quickly. “The 
people there — at least some of them, know how 
to live better than any others I ever saw. Of 
course they are a bit provincial — ” 

John stopped abruptly as the boys shouted, in 
their delight, and then solemnly resumed: “Yes, 
Virginia — and cotton. Larc talks about the rail- 
roads, but I’d have you think of how and where 
all this cotton grows, where it goes, what is done 
with it — ” 

“Here’s Muskogee!” interrupted Scott. 

In a brief time the boys had departed from the 
train, and then together they sought their friend 
Mr. Graham, who received them cordially, and in 
response to their queries, said: “Yes, I think I 
have all the arrangements for your camp complete, 
and I wish you all a good time, especially since 


414 FOUR BOYS IN LAND OF COTTON 


you have received the consent of your fathers. I 
have arranged for two tents. I have all the 
tackle and guns you’ll need, I have four ponies 
and two Indians — ” 

“Real Indians?” demanded Lee, quickly. 

“Yes, real Indians,” answered Mr. Graham, with 
a smile. “Sam Left Arm and John Buffalo 
Meat will both go. Buffalo Meat is one of the 
oldest Indians I ever saw, but if there is anything 
in the line of fishing, hunting, or anything else in 
outdoor life that he doesn’t know, then it is because 
he is too young. He is said to be only ninety- 
eight years old.” 

“Camping in Indian Territory!” exclaimed 
Larcum, when the boys, after they had thanked 
their friend for all that he had done for them, 
departed from the bank to prepare at once for 
their departure for the camp. “That is the 
greatest yet.” 

“It is great!” assented Scott. “But it is all 
great, too ! There hasn’t been a minute since 
we came to the land of cotton that hasn’t had 
something good.” 

“That is so, Scott,” said John. “And the 
beauty of it is that every day has been more 
interesting than the day before.” 


CONCLUSION 415 

“I thought you said you liked Virginia best,” 
suggested Lee. 

“I did, and I do; but the interesting and the 
novel may not lose, even if they are not the best.” 

“This is the very best, anyway,” said Larcum. 
“A journey of ‘Four Boys in the Land of Cotton ’ 
is good, but a Camp in Indian Territory is better.” 

“That remains to be seen,” said John, quietly. 


BOOKS BY EVERETT T. TOMLINSON. 


THE WAR OF 1812 SERIES 

Six volumes Cloth Illustrated by A. B. 
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No American writer for boys has ever occupied 
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The Search for Andrew Field 
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Our old friends, “ Bob,” “ Ben,” “ Jock,” and “ Bert,” having completed 
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PREVIOUS VOLUMES 

CAMPING ON THE ST. LAWRENCE 

Or, On the Trail of the Early Discoverers 

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BY THE SAME AUTHOR 

STORIES OF THE AMERICAN REVOLUTION 
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